


Silver Linings

by hslades



Series: Silver Linings Universe [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Draco is just tall, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Healer Hermione Granger, I've worked it out and it's gonna be a toll/smoll, Quidditch, Quidditch Player Draco Malfoy, Quidditch Player Ginny Weasley, Quidditch World Cup, There's a lot of Quidditch okay?, and hermione is averagey, anxiety attack, toll/smoll
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:35:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 34,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24886192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hslades/pseuds/hslades
Summary: After a failed romance with one of her colleagues, Hermione Granger is in desperate need for a change of scenery. Ginny comes with the perfect idea: join her and the rest of the English National Quidditch Team as a sports healer and join their Quidditch World Cup 2002 campaign. The Argentine sun makes her forget all the troubles of her love life. That is until a certain Seeker makes her question her “no love in the workplace rule” all over again.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: Silver Linings Universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2165991
Comments: 108
Kudos: 183
Collections: Quidditch, Quidditch Stories





	1. What Have I Done?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all,  
> I've mixed my interest in sports with Dramione, which will hopefully lead to an interesting story.  
> The beta'ing for this chapter has been done by EarlGreyPanic, do check out her new one-shot collection!  
> Chapter title was inspired by a song from Les Mis

She had slept terribly the previous night, tossing and turning the entire night long. Something about going back to work on Monday morning after having had that row with Robert on Saturday night just would not let her get a good night of sleep. 

Normally on Monday mornings, she couldn't wait to put the new angles she thought of over the weekend to the test to tackle the translations with a different approach. However, now the only thing she could think about was having to be in that tiny office on the top floor of the St. Mungo’s building alone with him, for the entire day.

Oh god, how was she going to handle this? Why did she ever think dating a colleague was a good idea? She still had to work with Robert on the Hatra scrolls full of ancient Mesopotamian healing methods every day. Why couldn't she just join Ginny and her teammates on one of their nights out on the town and find some random, intelligent, interesting guy? Wizard or muggle, she did not even really care anymore after all these failed dates, as long as the man would challenge her intellectually.

Robert had been so nice on their late nights working on the ancient scrolls, though. How did it end so damn bad? Couldn't she just have a common short office romance just like any other person? Did everything in her life need to be so goddamn difficult? She was stressing out way too hard for a normal Monday morning. 

She might not even see him, she tried to reassure herself. He might have gotten the message and asked to work on another scroll, or just in another office. There were numerous freshly discovered parchments that needed translating and new translations that needed tweaking for modern usage. She could’ve asked to work on other scrolls herself. Why had she wasted her entire Sunday sulking about the failed relationship, not thinking about her future at work? 

Hell, if push came to shove, she could always ask to transfer to the practical healing branch of St Mungo’s. She had always said that she wanted to get back into the field of practical healing eventually anyway. Plus, the head healer of St. Mungo's had asked for ages if she really didn't want to reconsider. She had shown this amazing fine wand work that had worked perfectly for the most intricate healing spells during training. 

Hermione had hoped to reach the office with some time to spare before Robert would arrive. She could’ve used some time to collect herself and focus her brain on her work. Unfortunately, when she entered the tiny office, she saw Robert was already sitting at the desk facing her own. A steaming cup of coffee next to his right hand.

He took a sip of his coffee just as the sound of the door penetrated the silence of the office. 

"Morning," The dark-haired wizard didn't even bother to look up from the scroll he was working on.

"Morning," Hermione replied quickly as she hurried towards her desk to bury her head into her work and hopefully forget this ever happened.

Nothing this day was going the way she wanted and nothing on her desk seemed to be where she swore she had left it on Friday afternoon.

“Uhm, Robert, sorry, I’ve got to ask you something,” Hermione broke the silence after what felt like hours but probably were just a mere ten minutes.

Robert looked questioningly up from his scrolls but didn’t respond.

“Uhm, well, do you have the Seleucid Runes cypher? I can’t seem to find it on my desk, and I could have sworn I was the last to use it before the weekend,” Hermione felt a wave of awkwardness washing over her by merely mentioning their damned weekend.

Robert just rummaged through the stacks of parchment on his desk and handed her the cypher without uttering a single word.

This was going to be an awfully long morning indeed.

Lunch couldn't have come any quicker. Hermione simply couldn't wait to get out of the tiny research office. Luckily, she had already had the mind to schedule a lunch with Ginny to discuss their weekends. 

At least she could count on a hopefully infectious amount of enthusiasm from her best friend. She had just heard she made the fourteen wizard English National Quidditch team practise squad for the upcoming Quidditch World Cup in Argentina. Not that had been very surprising for Ginny’s friends, she had been the leading top scorer in the domestic competition for the past two seasons. However, the redhead still had been very anxious about whether she would make the practice squad.

“I think this news calls for some celebratory drinks, doesn’t it?” Hermione said as they sat down in a cosy muggle pub near St. Mungo’s.

“Hermione, you know I can’t drink right now. Drinking and top sport don’t go well together. Especially in the months before you have to perform at the highest level,” Ginny laughed. “Plus, I still need to perform during the training camp to make the final World Cup squad, I still could get cut, you know?” She added concerned.

“As if coach Hoogh would cut the best chaser of the season in the British and Irish League!” Hermione reassured her. “And sorry, I had a really bad morning. So I guess I could just use a drink myself.” Hermione admitted, “Mind if I drink on your selection?” 

“Be my guest,” Ginny grinned, “was it that bad this morning?”

“It was disastrous. He didn’t even look up when he said ‘morning’,” Hermione explained as she signalled for the waitress. “And wouldn’t even talk about work-related stuff either, or reply to my work questions with actual words.”

“What a prick!” Ginny exclaimed. “What did he do exactly?” She added in a softer tone “You only send a letter to me late on Saturday night telling me you were sooooooooo done with the tosser and he just would never understand you and that we should meet for lunch so you could explain the whole story.” Ginny gestured towards the table between them with her hands. “So out with it, what happened?”

“Ugh” Hermione started to get bothered, just thinking about the events of Saturday night. “We went to the West End,” Ginny looked puzzled, “you know the place with the muggle plays and musical plays,” the brown witch quickly added the explanation. “We went there with some of your teammates after the Euros last year.” She clarified further when Ginny still seemed utterly lost.

That seemed to have done the trick. “Aaaah, that play with all those French guys killing each other with those gun thingys for no apparent reason,” Ginny said proudly, finally recalling their trip to the West End. “I’m so sorry, Hermione, selection has just been a total bitch, the training schedule is absurd.” She indeed looked exhausted underneath all her enthusiasm.

Well, that certainly was a way to describe Les Mis. “Yeah, well, I planned to take him to that specific musical play as well. But it started to go downhill when he was late, without giving me any notice. Therefore we ended up being at the theatre a bit on the late side and didn’t have the best tickets.” She added, still feeling slightly offended, “Next thing you know, he began lecturing the cashier as if it wasn’t his own fault we were late.” 

Hermione was so caught up in the retelling of her disastrous Saturday night that the waitress seemed to have appeared at their table out of nowhere. 

“What would you like to order, just drinks, or would you also like to see the lunch menu?” The waitress asked. “It’s up above the bar, I’m not sure if you can read it?” 

“Uhm, what kind of food would you recommend?” Hermione asked the waitress. In her rage, she hadn’t had time to have a look up at the lunch menu.

“Customers often say our Fish & Chips is outstanding,” The waitress answered, “We get our Cod straight from the harbour at South-End every morning.”

“I’ll have one of those then,” Hermione replied, “With a pint of cider, please.”

The waitress eyed her a bit suspiciously for ordering an alcoholic beverage on a Monday at noon wearing a modest pencil skirt and a blouse. “We’ve got something to celebrate,” Hermione quickly added.

The waitress just gave her a small smile and turned towards Ginny. “And you?”

“I’d like to have your chicken salad with a mineral water, please.” Ginny smiled at the waitress, beckoning her to move on from their table swiftly so she could resume her interrogation on Hermione’s date night.

“So, What happened next?” Ginny urged impatiently as soon as the waitress had left their table.

Hermione’s anger instantly sparked up again. “We missed the opening 10 minutes!” she exclaimed.

“Hadn’t you seen that one, like, a million times before?” Ginny asked; frankly, Hermione had literally dragged all her wizarding friends to see Les Miserables at least once.

“That’s not the point,” Hermione snapped. “It sets the scene for the entire story.”

The waitress soon returned with their drinks to cut off the rest of Hermione’s rant about her failed love life. “Your food will be with you in a minute,” she said as she put the drinks in front of the girls.

Hermione picked up her pint of cider, “Well, Gin, cheers on your selection!”

“So spill the beans. Who are your teammates? Any interesting new additions to the training squad? What is Skeeter going to write about?” Hermione gladly changed the subject, to not have to think about her disastrous dating life for a moment was a blessing.

“Well, the usual, all the big players in the league,” Ginny began, “And George was luckily fit enough to make the squad after that nasty drop in the league semi’s.” George had been caught off guard by a Bludger during this year’s Semi Final against Ginny’s own Holyhead Harpy’s. He had made a 70 feet drop, resulting in a list of nasty long term injuries. Ginny clearly seemed happy to have a family member with her during this long training camp abroad. 

“But I think all the headlines are going to be about Haley making the squad.” Ginny continued.

“Haley?” Hermione asked, confused.

“Haley Dakota, she’s the seeker of the Gryffindor team,” Ginny explained.

“Huh? She’s still a student?” Hermione replied, surprised.

“Well, yeah, supposedly, the Harpy’s coaching staff have already signed her for the post World Cup season.” Ginny’s team had been in dire need of a new Seeker since the sudden early retirement of Cho Chang. After coming back to playing following her two pregnancies, she had suffered a nasty injury. This had led Cho to decide that being there for her children was far more important than risking her health playing Quidditch for a couple more years. “Though that might turn out to be a difficult one, seeing as she should’ve started her 6th year this coming September.”

“Fascinating, so she’s going to compete for Malfoy’s spot?” It was not that Hermione was particularly interested in Quidditch or the English national team or Draco Malfoy specifically. Nevertheless, being best friends with Ginny meant she wanted to be at least in the know about what was happening in Ginny’s world. Which meant she knew Draco Malfoy was the seeker and captain of the Bath Bombers. His personal performances alone had led his team to several league finals over the years. Even winning a couple, like this year’s final against Ginny’s Holyhead Harpy’s. He had also been a part of the England squad for ages.

“I can’t wait for that bit of healthy competition, he’s been way too comfortable in that starting seeker position for far too long now.” Ginny certainly was not over the loss in the disastrous loss in the league final yet. It had been a bitter pill to swallow, as they would’ve had a much better chance of winning had Cho not retired mid-season.

The waitress returned with their lunch orders not long after, and Hermione hungrily dug into her fish and chips. 

“Wow, Gin, that salad is actually looking quite good for a pub salad,” Hermione said while looking at her friend’s lunch order.

“You think I’d bring you to a pub with shitty menu options within my limited diet?” Ginny smirked at her.

“Fair point,” Hermione said before digging in to finish her plate full of Fish and Chips. 

As soon as the end of her lunch break approached, Hermione started to feel anxious about the prospect of returning to her office and spending the rest of the day in complete silence with Robert. Ginny, the observant witch that she was, detected it almost immediately.

“Your lunch break is almost over, isn’t it?” she asked, concerned while checking the clock on the wall for the exact time.

“I can’t work like this morning for much longer, it feels like my brain is malfunctioning in uncomfortable circumstances,” Hermione confessed.

“Have you considered speaking to him about it? You were friendly before you started dating, you might still be capable to go back to being colleagues?” Ginny attempted to be helpful.

“Tell that to him,” Hermione scoffed, “I mean, I want to, and I feel like I tried this morning. Just going back to colleagues, you know? He just didn’t respond well, at all,” she added.

“It’s only been a couple of days since you had that fight with him,” Ginny tried. “It might get better over time.”

“I feel like it just erupted on Saturday, all the frustrations I’ve been feeling towards him for ages,” Hermione tried to explain her feelings, “Maybe if I don’t see him for a while we can just go back to being colleagues.”

“Well Coach Hoogh did say something about still needing an assistant for Healer Williams for the training camp and the World Cup,” Ginny suggested, “Didn’t you do a sports healing internship during your healer training?” 

“I can’t simply take four months off work,” Hermione replied, shocked.

“Thank you for assuming we’ll make it to the semi-finals,” Ginny quipped.

“You’re the top side in the world right now, you know? Even Bulgaria couldn’t touch you during the Euro’s this year,” Bulgaria had been the leading team in international Quidditch since the beginning of time. Only in recent years, England had started to make up the difference by implementing a new strategy under Coach Hoogh. 

“Well, thank you,” Ginny stated, “nonetheless, knowing you, you have stacked up an enormous amount of vacation days since you’ve started working there,” Ginny gave her a knowing look over the rim of her glass as she took a sip of water.

“Not four months worth,” Hermione defended herself, even though she was pretty sure she’d stacked up at least more than two full months of vacation days.

“Well, I’ll give you coach Hoogh’s contact information in case you want to interview for the job,” Ginny stubbornly pushed on. “I want to get you out of that tiny office and what’s better than spending up to - knock on wood -” the redhead dramatically hit her knuckles on the table twice, “four months in sunny Argentina, with me, your best friend.” Ginny paused for a moment. “And all you have to do in return is take care of some absolutely chiselled bodies of professional Quidditch players.” Ginny looked at her mischievously.

“GINNY!” Hermione blurted out, embarrassed while her cheeks turned scarlet red.

“Hermione Jean Granger, get your mind out of the gutter, both male and female Quidditch players have muscles,” Ginny flexed her bicep to emphasise her point, “Though I must admit I wouldn’t mind taking care of Davies’ body if you know what I mean,” Ginny winked.

“Ginny, focus,” Hermione laughed, “You’ve got a boyfriend, and his name is not Roger Davies.”

“Look, Davies is part of the ‘appreciate, but do not touch’ -category,” Ginny explained, “He is an all-body, limited brains kind of guy, once you’ve been around those kinds of men long enough you’ll love to go back home to someone like Harry, too,” she laughed. 

“Well, I guess I might find that out over the next four months.” Hermione finally gave in, “I suppose I can think about the job offer,” She continued solemnly, “I’ve always been wondering about how being an actual healer would be. This might be good practice.” 

“I knew the promise of caressing Davies’ shoulder muscles would convince you,” Ginny exclaimed excitedly.

“Still, I would first like to see if I can salvage the situation at work.” Ginny’s face fell, “But I suppose you could give me your coach’s contact info,” the redhead’s smile returned to her face. “I just want to be able to return to St. Mungo’s if I don’t get the job, you know I haven’t done any practical healing in years. I’m certainly not a shoo-in for the job, I should have a back-up plan,” Hermione looked up at the clock to see that she was already running late. “I should really get back to the office now, Gin, I promise, I’ll seriously think about it.”

Hermione and Ginny stood from their spot at the back of the pub and exited the pub onto a busy South London street. 

“Okay, you’re allowed to go all Hermione Granger on this one, as long as you contact Coach Hoogh.” The redhead smiled at her, “I’ll owl you his contact info as soon as I get home,” Ginny said as they reached the apparition point in the foyer of the St. Mungo’s building. “It should be on your desk before you get there,” She said as she apparated away in a blur.

Toying with the possible solution to her problems, Hermione walked up the stairs towards the top floor of the building. She was adamant that she wouldn’t let Robert ruin her workplace experience. Even if she got this job as a sports healer, she wouldn’t let him overshadow six years of amazing experiences and meaningful life lessons with his idiot behaviour.

As Ginny had promised, a letter was waiting on her desk as she walked into their tiny office. Okay, she had to suck it up and actually have this talk she had wanted to have with Robert ever since she had returned home from their date on Saturday night. Hermione sat down on her desk chair and took a deep breath.

“Right, Robert,” She started hesitantly, and as expected he once again didn’t look up from the scrolls he was translating in his hand, “We need to talk about this.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what your thoughts are about this chapter and what you think might happen in the future for our Star Quidditch Players and lovable Healer. I've done way too much background work for this fic, I've got fancast for characters you haven't even met yet. So if you're wondering what those shoulder muscles from Roger Davies actually look like, just ask, I'm sure I can find a picture.
> 
> This fic has been roughly plotted and will be updated on write and post as you go basis. But I'm sure I'll post the next chapter soon because I'm also excited to see where exactly this story goes.


	2. At the End of the Storm, There's a Golden Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fight from Saturday night with Robert continues and there's a job interview at the National Quidditch Grounds where she sees a platinum blonde Seeker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'ing thanks go out to kiwi05622  
> Chapter title is dedicated to the fact that Liverpool are Premiership Champions for the first time in 30 years and I'm happy

“Didn’t you say everything you needed to say on Saturday night?” Robert countered viciously looking up at her with heavily contracted pupils. Hermione just saw the anger burning in his brown eyes.

“Well, as I recall I said I didn’t want ending it to affect our working relationship,” Hermione’s anger instantly sparked up, as she stared back at him with equally blazing brown eyes. “And I think we can say that this morning was clear proof that certainly was not the case.”

“Can’t you give a man a break?” Robert quickly rose from his desk chair, “It was one morning, Hermione, one morning!” The dark-haired wizard bitterly continued. “The last thing you said to me on Saturday night was that you ‘wanted nothing more to do with me’ because you had made such a grave mistake ever going out with me,” He waved his hands furiously through the air in an attempt to substantiate what he was saying. 

“Those were your words, Hermione, and you wonder why I’m not all amicable with you the next time I see you?”

That hit home for Hermione, “I’m truly sorry I said those things, that was in the heat of the moment, I didn’t mean to say it in that way.” She paused for a moment. 

“Oh, you didn’t mean to deliver the words quite so viciously?” Robert quickly cut in, nearly yelling. 

Hermione was utterly embarrassed when she remembered she had forgotten to put a muffliato on their office door. Great! everyone will know what’s going on tomorrow morning. 

“But you did mean what you said, didn’t you, you just wish now that you’d soften the blow a bit by saying it in a ‘nicer’ way.” Robert went on.

“Robert, please, will you lower your voice? I don’t want the entire office to know what’s going on in my personal life,” She pleaded, “And I just meant to say that I wanted to go back to the way it was before all this mess happened,” Hermione confessed.

“I know, Hermione, I know,” Robert sounded slightly defeated, “I would like for that to happen too, I promise, today was just a bit of a shit day.” He laughed apologetically.

Hermione laughed softly in agreement. “It was, wasn’t it? Do you think it will be better for you tomorrow?” She asked quietly.

“Honestly? I don’t know,” He replied pausing for a moment to seemingly think it over, “I don’t think so.”

“What do you need from me?” Hermione responded softly, looking down onto the laced fingers in her lap.

“Time.” He responded honestly. “And maybe some more space between us.”

“I think I can give you that,” She tilted her head and raised her gaze to meet his.

“How?” Robert asked, utterly surprised seemingly not seeing how she could give him space.

“There might be a possibility for me, a friend told me about a vacancy for a temporary job abroad,” Hermione explained fidgeting with her hands in her lap.

“Oh,” He said softly as he sat down on his desk chair, returning to his scrolls.

“But nothing is sure yet, I haven’t even applied for it yet,” she went on, “and it’s in a whole other field of healing. I don’t even know if I would be their best option, but I think I’m going to try.”

“Okay, good, If that’s what you think you need to do. I hope you’ll get that job, you would be a great addition to any company.” Robert replied sincerely, “Well shall we get back to work then?”

The rest of the day Robert and Hermione worked in almost complete silence. It was, however, a far more pleasant silence than the one she had tried to function in that morning. They could ask each other questions again, about the problems they faced with their translations, and the other person would actually answer said questions. That was immense progress compared to the morning they’ve had. Maybe there was a possibility they could go back to being colleagues after some time had passed.

When Hermione finally returned to her cosy flat that evening she chucked her curry take away on the kitchen table as she rushed towards the bathroom to start running a bath. After the day she had, she could use a little pamper session before she could muster the energy needed to have to write Coach Hoogh and try to get the job.

After a quick dinner and a long relaxing bath with a large glass of Merlot, Hermione sat down at her dinner table to write the letter.

_ Dear Coach Hoogh, Monday, 15th of July, 2002 _

_ Today, my friend Ginny Weasley told me there was still an assistant sports healers vacancy on your staff for the upcoming Quidditch World Cup campaign in Argentina. I would like to enquire if that spot is still available and if you would possibly consider me for the job. I have undertaken my apprenticeship in Sports Healing as part of my training as a healer before I started working in the Ancient Healing Method’s section of St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, where I’ve worked for the past two years. I would be grateful if we could set up a meeting. Where I could lay out all the benefits the team would receive if I were to join your staff. I would be a helpful addition to the team. I would appreciate your reply at your earliest convenience. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Hermione Granger _

Hermione glanced up at the clock near to the fireplace to see if it was still an appropriate time to send her letter on its way. Satisfied with seeing it was only just past nine o’clock, she headed to her owl bench next to her balcony. Seiron, her great grey owl, perked up in anticipation of the possibility of getting some more attention. 

“Hello, big man, I need you to deliver this letter safely to Coach Henry Hoogh,” with her nails she scratched the top of Seiron’s head. “Can you do that for me?”

As a response, the grey owl put one of his legs out towards her to make it easier for Hermione to attach the letter to his paw.

“Off you go, big man,” Hermione stated as she unlocked the door to the balcony to let him out, “Safe travels!” She left the glass door slightly unlatched to allow Seiron to return to his owl perch once he’d return from his flight somewhere deep in the night. Somerset was quite some distance away from her East London flat, Hermione didn’t expect Seiron to return before dawn the next morning. 

She turned around and quickly headed towards her bedroom. The events of the day had left her utterly exhausted, she could really use a long night of sleep.

Over the next couple of days, Hermione fell into a new normal of moderately less awkward working days with Robert. It was, however, still nowhere near the work environment it had been before their failed relationship. 

In his response to her letter, Coach Hoogh had invited her for a meeting at the English Quidditch headquarters in County Somerset, that upcoming Thursday. 

The headquarters of the English Quidditch Union and national Quidditch Stadium were located on a 1400 acres estate in rural Somerset. It was extremely evident that top-level Quidditch had been financially backed by the pureblood elite for centuries. The portkey that had been sent accompanying Coach Hoogh’s letter had her arrive at the old Mills Park guardhouse, on the Southern side of the estate. 

“Good afternoon, Miss Granger, I suppose?”A free house-elf, wearing a clean white polo shirt with three small red dragons on his left chest, apparated with a loud pop into the small space almost instantly after Hermione had arrived. 

She hadn’t even really had the time to have a proper look around the guardhouse. “Coach Hoogh is expecting you in his office,” He started to move towards the door, “If Miss would follow Gippy now, Gippy will walk Miss over there.” Gippy opened the door that led out into the garden.

The garden stretching out between the old guardhouse and the Mills Park grand house was even more outrageous than Hermione had expected it to be. A wide fiery red gravel path ran towards the grand front door of the crisp white limestone mansion. On both sides of the path, there were flowerbeds the width of the house full of pristine white Convallaria Majalis flowers. 

Precisely in the middle, the gravel path split perpendicularly to the main path towards the orchards to the side. The flowerbeds and the red gravel seemed to form a perfect Saint George Cross.

Once she and Gippy passed the first half of the flowerbeds, three glowing red dragons appeared to have flown into the flowerbed from the right side of the garden. On the back of the last dragon, a wizard sat cheering enthusiastically while holding what Hermione thought must be the Quidditch World Cup trophy.

“That’s Macrinus Hoogh, miss,” Gippy explained as Hermione had suddenly stopped, eyes fascinatingly following the wizard flying all around the flowerbeds, “He’s Coach Hoogh’s father. He captained England to their last World Cup victory in 1966.” Gippy walked away from her towards the large oak door of the house, gesturing for her to follow him.

When they stepped into the Mills Park grand house, Hermione marvelled at the sheer size of the vast entrance hall before her. She followed Gippy up an enormous grand staircase made of dark brown yew wood, the steps were covered with deep red carpets. She couldn’t help but keep her eyes locked on the large stained-glass skylight. The sun hitting the skylight lit the entrance hall in scattered specs of red and gold.

Coach Hoogh’s office was a short walk away from the upstairs landing. Gippy opened the door as soon as they reached it. “Miss Granger, please come on in.” Coach Hoogh started as she stepped through his office door, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Gesturing for her to sit down in the chair in front of his desk.

After telling him why she was interested to change the path of her healing career. Coach Hoogh asked her about her time before she started her healer training.

“Headmaster McGonagall had me working as a tutor and part-time substitute professor. While I was at Hogwarts finishing up my NEWTs education before I could start my healer training,” Hermione explained.

“Professor McGonagall mentioned something about that in our correspondence about Miss Dakota’s education,” Hermione wasn’t sure why Coach Hoogh and McGonagall would write about her while discussing Haley. “As Miss Weasley might have mentioned, we plan to include an underage witch in our World Cup squad,” He started to explain, “Professor McGonagall wanted to be guaranteed that there would be no delays in Miss Dakota’s education due to the upcoming World Cup Campaign.”

Hermione still didn’t have a clue where he was going with this explanation.

“I would like to offer you a job,” Well at least that was a good sign, Hermione thought “well actually two jobs. One being an assistant healer to Healer Williams and another one tutoring Miss Dakota’s.” he looked at her as if he wanted to know her answer right away.

“To be perfectly honest, Sir, this is more than what I expected to take on.” Hermione started. “First I must say that I would very much like to take on this challenge. However, it would require a bit more preparation. And of course communications with Miss Dakota’s professors to know what part of the sixth year curriculum we’re expected to have covered by the time she returns to the UK.” 

“I will write Professor McGonagall to ask her if she’d owl you that information as soon as possible,” Coach Hoogh assured her.

“I’d appreciate that, Mister Hoogh.” 

“Okay, now that that’s settled. I’d like to introduce you to Miss Dakota. Just so we can get it out of the way and you can just jump straight into it once you’ll start.” He stood up from behind his desk. “She’s currently on pitch three,” he looked at his wristwatch, “just about to finish up the Seeker Specialist Skills training. If you’ll follow me I’d give you a small tour of the grounds on our way to the pitches.” 

The walls of the downstairs hallways were covered in group portraits and pictures of former England squads. Hundreds of faces were smiling down at her while waving excitedly. Passing past the changing rooms, they exited the Main House towards the back of the estate bordering on Exmoor National Park. A large hedge maze stretched out in front of her as far as she could see. “I thought you said the pitches were at the back of the house,” she asked confused.

“Well, there have been many Rita Skeeter’s over the centuries, and even reputable reporters want to have a game selection scoop from time to time.” Coach Hoogh started to explain, “Thus, at the start of the 20th century the president of the union added this maze to the estate to protect the pitches from wandering reporters and paparazzi.”

They made their way into the maze, “If you’re allowed to enter the pitch area the maze will lead you to the pitches. If you aren’t, entering it will lead you straight back to the public entrance of the estate grounds ten miles north.” He continued explaining.

After moments walking through what looked like a never-ending maze, the hedge in front of them suddenly opened up. The yew hedge created an archway for the two of them to step through onto a large stretch of land covered in grass as smooth as a billiard’s table bed. The grassland was surrounded by woodland obscuring it from the muggle world. 

On the furthest of three Quidditch pitches, two people were flying above the pitch. Another person was standing in the centre of the pitch watching the two seekers zoom around the pitch.

“Oi, Jamie, can you let them take a break for a sec?” Coach Hoogh shouted as soon as they were within earshot of the man standing on the pitch. “I’ve got someone for Dakota to meet.”

“Can you wait 10 minutes, Hoogh?” The man who was apparently called Jamie asked. “I just want Malfoy and Dakota to finish their reps so they can get some rest in before the three o’clock analysis session.”

Coach Hoogh turned towards Hermione. “Can you spare an extra 10 to 15 minutes, Miss Granger?” 

Hermione had cleared her entire afternoon for this job interview and there was no one waiting for her at home. There was no rush to get out of here. Therefore, she simply nodded her head in response.

“Okay, Murray. You’ve got 10 minutes.” Coach Hoogh said as he turned around and guided Hermione up a small watchtower.

“So, have you ever played?” He asked as they sat down looking at Malfoy and Haley going through their reps.

“I’m more the read about it type,” Hermione confessed. “I did watch an awful lot of games at Hogwarts though. A lot of my friends were in the house Quidditch team. And I’ve also been to a couple of Ginny’s Harpy’s and England games over the years.”

Coach Hoogh simply nodded as he turned his attention back onto the seekers flying high above the pitch.

Suddenly, a strong gust of wind made her mane of curls obstruct her eyesight entirely. As she brushed the brown curls out of her face, she saw Malfoy smiling broadly while hoovering to her right. He was holding the snitch triumphantly in his hand.

“Good effort, Malfoy,” She heard Murray shout from the centre of the pitch. “Dakota start making your rounds and try and incorporate a Wronski Feint into this rep.”

After a couple of rounds circling the pitch, Haley suddenly dove towards the ground. Hermione hadn’t spotted the golden glint of the snitch near the bottom. However, Haley Dakota was a transcendent talent when it came to being a seeker. There was definitely a great opportunity she had spotted, something Hermione hadn’t.

Abruptly, Haley pulled out of her dive and returned to circling the pitch, only on a lower height now. 

“What was that?” Hermione whispered to herself, not understanding what was happening.

“That was what Murray just called the ‘Wronski Feint’,” Coach Hoogh answered anyway. “We force our seekers to go through their maneuvres during practice,” He continued. “If I’m correct, Murray will let the Snitch appear somewhere on the field, right about,” His eyes scanned the pitch before him. “Now!” He gestured Hermione to look at the goalposts on her left where indeed a glint of gold was currently shimmering. Not soon after, Haley had rushed towards the golden shimmer, caught it and held it securely in her hand.

“Come on, Miss Granger,” Coach Hoogh stood up from his bench. “Let’s go down to the pitch and I’ll introduce you.” As Hermione glanced towards the field she saw both Malfoy and Haley stand facing Murray, seemingly listening intently to what he was saying.

“Dakota, this is Hermione Granger,” Coach Hoogh started once they reached the trio, “She’ll be helping you with your education.”

Hermione saw Malfoy roll his eyes. “Good luck with that, Hails,” he muttered under his breath. 

It wasn’t that she had not seen him since the war. She had been to plenty of games of Ginny and George where Malfoy was also somewhere on the field. It was, however, the first time in five years that she had seen him up close like this, in his tight fit Quidditch kit. His once pointy features had filled out over years of rigorous Quidditch training. His body looked strong and angular but nowhere near as bulky as George had become. His eyes, however, were still the same icy blue glaring down at her, it felt like 5th year all over again. 

His eyes looked her up and down blatantly taking in her body in her teal skirt suit. Hermione felt uncomfortable under his gaze, quickly trying to smooth out any non-existent creases in her skirt. But then again, she had no leg to stand on; she had just ogled the shit out of his Quidditch kit tightly hugging his toned muscles.

“This is Jamie Murray, an old teammate of mine and he now helps out with the Seekers.” Coach Hoogh continued the introduction, completely failing to see or more likely choosing to ignore the Mexican stand-off happening to his right.

“Pleasure,” Hermione said as she shook Coach Murray’s outstretched hand.

“And finally, this is our current starting Seeker, Draco Malfoy.” Coach Hoogh said as Hermione once again shifted her attention to the platinum blond in front of her.

“We’ve met before,” She said in a hopeless attempt for them to be able to skip the formal greeting. Malfoy, however, took a step forward and held out his hand.

“It’s been a while, Granger,” He countered using the famous Malfoy family drawl.

Hermione stepped forward to reluctantly shake his outstretched hand. “Indeed, Malfoy.” She replied as his seemingly giant hand almost completely encapsulated her small hand. His handshake was surprisingly strong, almost as if he was channelling vast amounts of anger through the grasp of his slender fingers.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAAAAY, Draco is finally here. And I promise Ginny will be back soon, and Roger Davies as well...  
> Please tell me what you think


	3. An Awkward Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a mention of a S&C session, it's short for Strength and Conditioning and it's pure hell.  
> beta'ing credits go to [Kiwi05622 ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwi05622/pseuds/kiwi05622)

“Do you normally have to put up with that outrageous behaviour all the time?” Hermione asked Haley fiercely. She nodded her head towards Malfoy, who was walking slightly ahead of them with Coach Hoogh and Murray. They were making their way back through the hedge maze to the Mills Park main house from the training pitches. “I honestly feel bad for you.”

Haley shrugged, “He normally isn’t that bad,” she started to carefully explain, “Don’t get me wrong. He likes to take the piss out of me. All the lads do. I think it’s a being the new girl sort of thing. But you should’ve heard him yesterday when the Prophet published a critical piece that Skeeter wrote about me not deserving my spot on the team.” 

Haley started picking up the pace, as they’d fallen back quite a bit compared to the three men in front of them. "He even wanted to write her a letter commenting on her atrocious article telling her that she was an old busybody that’s too concerned about ageism, and what did she know about Quidditch anyway, she’s terrible on a broom" Haley laughed “He also said she should stick to what she does best, celebrity gossip”

"I wouldn’t even say she was good at that” Hermione chuckled. 

“That doesn’t sound like the Malfoy I knew at Hogwarts, at all,” Hermione candidly admitted.

“My mum says that war changes people,” the dirty blonde witch simply shrugged. She had been only eight years old when the war ended, her parents had luckily sheltered her from the harshed atrocities.

“It undoubtedly does,” Hermione answered as she shifted her brown eyes anxiously towards the ground, images of marble floors covered in blood and cursed knives flashed before her eyes.

“Sorry, Hermione, I didn’t mean to bring up the war, you must’ve seen a lot,” Haley’s apology brought Hermione back to the here and now. She realised she had stopped walking. She stood pin-straight, her eyes intently staring at the gravel down at her feet.

Hermione closed her eyes and shook her head, willing the contracted muscles in her upper back to relax. “Don’t worry about it, Haley, you couldn’t have known, it’s not your fault.” She said sincerely as she looked up in the worrying eyes of the 16-year-old.

“So, are you trying to convince me that what I saw back on the pitch with Malfoy”,” Hermione not so subtly changed the subject as they started walking again, “isn't how he normally acts towards other people?” Hermione asked the other witch, who nodded her affirmation, “So that would naturally mean, I’m the problem,” Hermione laughed merrily, making light of the situation

“I wouldn’t want to say yes, but he’s pretty cordial with Ginny and George, too,” Haley answered thoughtfully.“So-” she paused, “maybe?” The 16-year old let a slight giggle escape her throat.

“Great, just great,” Hermione said as they finally reached the back porch of the historic house.

“I think I heard something about Malfoy heading to the gym, apparently the rest of the team is doing their S&C session in there.” Haley said, “Do you want to come with me and say hi to Ginny before you head back home?”

“Yeah, that’d be lovely, I think she’d be over the moon to hear I’ve landed the job,”

The English Quidditch Team Gym was something to be impressed with, even if you weren’t a gym bunny. It was a large room set up with all the weightlifting and stretching equipment a professional Quidditch player might need.

As she scanned the gym to look for her best friend, her eyes couldn’t help but linger on the man currently working out at the squat rack. Hermione could certainly understand Ginny’s slight obsession with the muscles of Roger Davies, the exercise he was currently performing almost seemed to be an advertisement for his chiselled body. Every repetition of the exercise had his perk glute muscles on full display. 

“Hermione!” She instantly tore her eyes away from Davies’ perk arse to look over at her best friend, who sat stretching on a yoga mat just to the left of the squat rack. “I didn’t know your interview was today,” Ginny rushed towards her, “And?” she stood in front of Hermione beaming down at her. “Did you get it? Did you get the job?”

“She-Weasel, do you genuinely think Coach would allow her to see all our well-kept secrets if she wasn’t part of the staff?” Malfoy drawled from the bench press area where he was already spotting for another teammate.

“Get off it, Malfoy,” Ginny instantly turned towards the blond, “it’s in the official job description of a best friend to be excited for one’s best friend, but I guess you wouldn’t know anything about that.”

Malfoy just simply rolled his eyes and gestured downward where the other blond was cranking out reps with a lot of iron on the bar. Hermione supposed that gesture meant Malfoy considered the other blonde as one of his friends.

“Easy, Weasley,” a tall dark-skinned wizard cut in, “We are in Somerset, not Scotland, this isn’t Hogwarts, I know all ancient buildings can sometimes look the same to you but I can positively assure you we didn’t have such a luxurious gym at school.”

“Ha-ha, Bletchley,” Ginny sarcastically laughed, rolling her eyes.“Really, you are a comedy genius,”

“Just cut it with the house prejudice, will you, Gin,” the wizard apparently named Bletchley said, “We’re better than that,” he resolutely turned towards Malfoy, “Even Draco over there,” and gave his club teammate an over the top wink.

“Yeah, Miles, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” Ginny sincerely apologized. “Malfoy just has the amazing talent of being able to get under my skin in thirty seconds,”

Malfoy just seemed to grin utterly accomplished.

Finally, the face and name clicked in Hermione’s brain. “Ooooh, Miles Bletchley, you said?” Bletchley nodded awkwardly. “As in, Cho’s husband?”

“Amongst other things,” He laughed merrily.

“His team are the current national champions,” Ginny muttered bitterly. Obviously still holding a grudge over the lost Championship final.

Hermione laughed awkwardly, “Well, tell her I said hi, next time you properly speak to her, will you?” She politely asked Bletchley.

“Sure Granger, will do,” He smiled at her encouragingly. Maybe not all Slytherin’s were as difficult to get along with as Malfoy, Miles did marry Cho, that should mean he wouldn’t be completely repulsive.

Ginny steered her out of the gym to a small sitting room right next to it. “Sit down and spill the beans,” She gestured to Hermione to sit down in a wingback chair. “Now, Please?” She pressed.

“Nothing much to say really, I’ve got the healing job, I’ll have to part-time tutor Haley, and Malfoy was his usual bratty self on the pitch,” Hermione recounted the events of the afternoon to the redheaded witch. “But having the two jobs will be good, I think, I’d barely have time to overthink things.”

Her best friend beamed at her proudly. “I knew you’d get the job! How could Coach refuse you, you are Hermione effing Granger,”

“But you have to promise not to tell anyone just yet, I need to tell my boss at St. Mungo’s first.” She pressed seriously.

“Not even Harry?” Ginny asked rhetorically.

“You damn well know, everything you tell Harry, Ron ends up knowing and when Ron knows, you could just as well give Rita Skeeter a personal call,” 

“Fair enough,” Ginny said, “but how am I going to keep it from Harry when I’ll return home with this joyous face tonight?” She asked with a pleading look on her expressive face.

“You’re a smart girl, Gin, I’m sure you can figure it out,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“I promise to tell them as soon as I’ve told St. Mungo’s and Coach Hoogh gives the go-ahead,” Hermione said, “I bet it’s something Rita Skeeter would just love to gossip about. Especially since she’s apparently into Quidditch gossip now and we all know it's only because of the upcoming World Cup, Haley told me about that nasty article Skeeter wrote about her.”

“Can I at least be there when you tell Ron, I dearly want to see the look of utter shock on his face when he realizes you’re going to be in the engine room of English Quidditch for the entire campaign.” Ginny pleaded earnestly. “He’s going to be so jealous.” 

Ginny’s youngest, older brother had always been a bit jealous of the siblings that did make it into professional Quidditch teams. George was essentially living Ron’s childhood dream playing pro-Quidditch for Ron’s favourite team, the Chudley Cannons. Ron had desperately tried after the war to get on to pro-Quidditch teams and his status as Harry Potter’s best friend did secure him a couple of trials. He, however, only made it onto the second string of the Fazeley Falcons for one year before being cut.

“Gin, you should go back to your S&C session, I wouldn’t want to be told off for distracting the team members before I’ve officially started the job,” Hermione justly said.

“Please, don’t make me keep this secret for long,” She implored again as she walked to head back towards the gym.

“I’ll tell Healer Johnson tomorrow,” Hermione assured her best friend, “Are you free for dinner on Saturday?” She asked, “I already had dinner planned with Ron and Harry,”

“Uhm yeah Saturday, Harry mentioned something about that. It’s at Grimmauld Place, right? Yeah fine, I think I can manage that,” Ginny said as she reached the door of the gym, “I’m really glad you got the job, Hermione,” She said as she opened the door.

“I’ll see you on Saturday,” Hermione said but the door had already closed.

\-----------

Hermione didn’t know why, but she felt extremely anxious walking into St Mungo’s the following day. It almost felt like people could undoubtedly see what her conversation with Healer Johnson was about. However, before she could go into her boss’ office she had to stop by her office, the meeting with Johnson wasn’t until ten that morning.

“Morning,” She said to Robert as she wandered their tiny office on the upper floor of the St Mungo’s building.

“Morning,” He looked up from the scrolls he was working on, “how did the interview go yesterday afternoon?”

“I can’t say, they’re a bit private with Skeeter rummaging around for her next scoop,” Hermione answered, “But I guess I need to talk to Healer Johnson at ten,”

“Well, congrats then, I guess,” He answered before promptly returning to his scrolls.

She didn’t know why she went back to her translations that rigorously, she would start researching sports healing and setting up Haley’s academic curriculum and schedule that upcoming Monday, the translations she would get done today wouldn’t change the world. However, she was the best at translating Assuryian Runes, and she wanted to leave her colleagues with the most complete translation., The scroll she was working on seemed to have interesting information about stabilizing ingredients for the mixing of certain healing potions. It could lead to a breakthrough in the healing potions field. Hermione was anxiously eyeing the clock as it turned to quarter to ten. She had looked at it a hundred times in the past 5 minutes.

“Hermione, just go and see Johnson already,” Robert cut in, “He knows you, he knows you’re likely going to be early,”

“I suppose you’re right,” Hermione gave in as she carefully rolled up the scrolls she had been working on and placed them back on the shelf behind her. She stood from her desk chair and set off towards Healer Johnson private office down the hall.

“Come on in,” Healer Johnson said as Hermione knocked on his door.

“Oh Miss Granger, you’re early,” He said as she gently opened the door and stepped into his office.

“Yes, sorry, I couldn’t get any more work done,” Hermione apologized, “So I supposed I could try and come to see you earlier,”,”

“Sure, what did you want to talk about?” Johnson said placing the files he was reading down on his desk and gesturing for her to sit down.

“Uhm,” Hermione started anxiously, “I’ve recently had this unique opportunity present itself to me,” She paused, fidgeting with her fingers nervously

“Please continue, Miss Granger,” Healer Johnson instructed.

“I’ve had an interview for a temporary job yesterday afternoon,” she continued unsurely, “The English Quidditch Union would like to take me on as an assistant sports healer for the duration of their Quidditch World Cup campaign.” She hastily finished, it felt better to get it all out of the way, all out in the open at once.

“And what do you suppose I should say about that, Miss Granger?” Her boss answered candidly.

“Well, I’d like to use all my vacation days and possibly add some unpaid leave to adequately cover the full extent of the possible four months I’d have to leave the office,” She politely asked. “I definitely plan to return to St Mungo’s after the World Cup Campaign, and I believe the experience I would gain during these four months could be beneficial to the Hospital after my return.”

“Miss Granger, you have more than enough vacation days, I’d like to see you use your vacation days to go on an actual vacation. However, I can’t stop you and sincerely wish you all the best.” Once he said that, relieve washed through Hermione, “I do hope you would handover your projects to your colleagues as well as you can, and are possibly still be available for correspondence if we have any questions about the translations you were working on or any other projects,”

“Of course, I’d always love to help.” Hermione genuinely replied.

“Well, then I’ve got nothing more to say,” Healer Johnson started as he moved to pick up the files once more, “I wish you all the best Miss Granger, and let’s all hope you’ll have to take up the full four months and you’ll return to us with a gold medal,”

As Hermione walked back to her office she felt mightily relieved, there were only a couple of burdens left now. Telling Harry and Ron, which didn't seem much of a burden when compared to the media scrutiny that Rita Skeeter would surely bring upon her once the news broke.

That Saturday afternoon she paced for 15 minutes straight in front of the small fireplace in her living room. She honestly didn’t know how the boys would react to her quite impulsive decision. She took a deep breath, stepped into the fireplace and flooed over to Grimmauld Place. Arriving 10 minutes early.

The drawing-room in which she arrived was completely desolate. Thus, she decided to see if anyone was around, she decided she’d start her search in the kitchen. Sure enough, she found Ginny nursing a cup of tea.

“How was practise?” She started off, making Ginny jump and almost tipping over her teacup.

“Sweet Merlin, you startled me,” She subconsciously moved her hand away from the scalding cup of tea. “Practise was good. Though Pucey is relentlessly pushing Coach Hoogh to implement almost all the Bombers chasers moves. As if I can’t see they’re just Bombers’ moves labelled after magical creatures and not alcoholic beverages like they typically do down in Bath.”

Hermione rolled her eyes at her best friend’s continued bitter bashing of her Bath teammates.

“Yeah it should be a complete surprise a Quidditch Player isn’t clever,” Hermione countered sarcastically.

“Hey! I was at the top of my year. Davies was a Ravenclaw, that must count for something. And if I remember correctly Malfoy was only bested by you,” She defended herself, “Not all Quidditch players are brainless meatheads, but I suppose Pucey is.”

“Point taken,” Hermione conceded, slightly surprised Ron and Harry hadn’t shown up in the kitchen yet. “Where are the boys at?”

“Harry bought this game thing last Monday, and they have been occupied with it in the attic ever since.” The redhead explained.

“So who did all this then?” Hermione gestured to the dinner cooking away in the oven.

“I suppose Kreacher,” Ginny shrugged, “It was already going when I got home at four,”

“He intentionally let his house-elf prepare his dinner just so he could play more games?” Hermione exclaimed utterly shocked. “Unbelievable!”

“You know how the boys get when they get a new toy,” Ginny shrugged, seemingly totally unbothered. “Here have some tea with me, while we wait. They’ll be down any minute now. I suspect they would want you to genuinely believe they’ve actually prepared the dinner themselves. They should’ve anticipated that nine times out of ten that you would show up early.”

“No I wouldn't,” Hermione tried to fiercely defend herself.

“When was the last time you showed up early somewhere?” Ginny reasonably questioned, “Answer honestly, I will know when you’re blatantly lying.” She added earnestly after a moment.

“Yesterday,” Hermione gave in, cheeks turning red.

Ginny grinned triumphantly at Hermione with an I told you so look in her eyes, as she carefully slid a cup of tea across the kitchen table towards her.

Like clockwork, two minutes before Hermione was supposed to arrive the boys crashed into the kitchen. Promptly stopping death in their tracks as they spotted her sitting at the kitchen table.

“Oh, you’re early,” Ron stated the obvious looking nervously at Harry

“Isn’t she always?” Ginny rolled her eyes.

“We did actually plan on cooking ourselves, Hermione,” Harry desperately tried to adamantly defend himself, “It’s just we got to this level where we just couldn’t stop, so I asked Kreacher if he could get dinner started.”

“Do you typically consider this,” Hermione gestured towards the ready to be plated dinner behind her, “just getting dinner started?”

“Like I said we got a bit carried away,” Harry said nonchalantly.

“Well it’s here now, let’s just eat it.” Ginny stood from the kitchen table and started heading towards the dining room. “Wouldn’t want to spoil good food now, would we,”

“So, Hermione has some exciting news, lads,” Ginny said as soon as they were properly seated around the large hardwood dining table. She genuinely seemed to not have the ability to wait a little bit longer until Harry had successfully set the food down on the candlelit table.

“What did Robert finally propose?” He asked distractedly.

“You never pay any attention to the things we tell you, do you?” Ginny remarked, annoyed, “See Hermione, I could’ve told him Thursday night when I got home and he wouldn't have heard it, anyway.” 

“Told me what?” Harry asked, utterly confused.

“You’re not with Robert anymore?” Ron questioned at the same time.

"I literally flood-called you guys on Tuesday night, setting up this dinner and mentioned having broken up with Robert," Hermione looked at the boys in utter disbelief. Harry was still levitating the oven dish and plates a foot above the table.

The boys had been too occupied with their new toy to have actually remembered any of the conversations she or Ginny had had with them over the previous week.

“ I told Ginny over lunch on Monday and you guys on Tuesday night, I broke it off with Robert after our dreadful date on Saturday night,” Ron and Harry gasped as if they truly just heard this information for the first time. “During that lunch, Ginny mentioned something about the fact Coach Hoogh was still seeking another assistant healer for his staff for the Quidditch World Cup Campaign.” 

Ron’s eyes instantly started widening.

“So I wrote to him,” she continued.

“And?” Harry suddenly questioned, completely focussed on every single word that escaped Hermione’s mouth.

“I went to HQ in Somerset, had an interview, got a tour of the facilities-,”

“She’s going to Argentina with us,” Ginny blurted, seemingly no longer able to hold her tongue. 

There was a harsh crashing noise as Harry’s focus had completely left the levitating charm and the oven dish and plates had crashed onto the dining table.

Ron’s astonished eyes had promptly turned into saucers. “You… Hermione — I rather read my transfiguration book in the stand than follow the match — Granger is going to the Quidditch World Cup not just for free but will be getting paid to go there.” He stated utterly astonished.

“I’ve always wanted to see what practical healing is really like,” She eagerly tried to explain herself to Ron and a still eerily quiet Harry. “And with there no longer being a raging war going on, the most suitable place to rapidly learn a lot of practical healing is in the sports world. You’ve undoubtedly seen the considerable extent of healing George needed after his tragic fall against the Harpy’s.”

“But still, you don’t even like Quidditch.” He stammered.

“It’s not about the Quidditch, Ron.” She sincerely tried explaining further, “It’s about the healing and the added bonus of being around Ginny for the entire summer and being able to call it work.”

Ginny beamed at her from across the table. Seemingly extremely happy to have her best friend around in such a testing environment as a World Cup campaign.

Harry seemed to have finally gathered his thoughts. “You are leaving your job as one of the most prominent healing translators in St Mungo’s to do what?” He paused, “Fix a couple of minor scratches and a few broken bones?” 

“I’ve always had an interest in practical healing,” Hermione staunchly defended her decision. “And it’s not like I’ve quit my job, I’ve just taken a sabbatical, I’ll be returning to St Mungo’s in November,”

“I knew you had four months worth of vacation days,” Ginny chipped in.

“I actually didn’t Gin, but Johnson and I made it work.” She didn’t feel like mentioning she only had to concede to two weeks of unpaid leave on top of her mighty mountain of unused vacation days.

“You’re certain you are not just doing this to flee from your life in London, to flee from Robert,” Harry narrowed his eyes which were full of concern

“A minute ago you barely remembered I had specifically told you guys already that I’d broken it off with the man, and now you foolishly think you’re the expert and assuming that I’m running away from my feelings?.” She was genuinely shocked at Harry’s reckless audacity to foolishly think he had the right to question her actions after not caring about what was going on in her private life for an entire week all for a game of Mario.

“You’re right, Hermione,” He instantly started his humble apology, “I should’ve listened attentively on Tuesday, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t running away from your feelings.”

“And what if I am?” She boldly countered, “I’ve cleared it with my boss. It will be a great feature on my resume in the future and I’m taking a break from sitting in a 100 square feet office with my ex-boyfriend for 8 straight hours every single workday. I don’t see anything wrong with that, do you?” She demanded from Harry quite viciously.

“No, I guess you’re right,” He reluctantly conceded, turning his attention to the chicken lasagna in the oven dish in front of him.

“I still don’t understand why you even want to be around quidditch players for four months, you don’t even like quidditch,” Ron pitched in again once it was his turn to help himself with a considerable portion of the lasagna dish.

“It’s about the healing, Ron,” Hermione remarked one final time.

“Has Malfoy’s foul mood already improved compared to Thursday afternoon?” She asked Ginny to try and subtly change the subject.

“Why would you care about Malfoy?” Ron asked harshly.

“I don’t,” She simply stated, “he was an utter arse to me on Thursday, and I’d like to find out if he’s got some personal vendetta against me,”

“If there’s one person who can solve a mystery it’s you, Hermione,” Ron assured her.

“He was just his normal self, really, nothing special,” Ginny finally answered her initial question.

That ultimately concluded the case of Hermione’s new job. The quartet contentedly ate the rest of their delicious dinner in relative ease, talking about quidditch and work.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you thought of the chapter and things you'd love to see happening next


	4. Welsh Green's and Painful Shoulders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Hermione's first day at her new job

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'ing thanks go to Kiwi05622, the amazing chapter moodboard was also created by her!

The following Monday morning Hermione made her way to HQ in the Mills Park Grand House, her bag full with the practical healing research she had done over the weekend. She had genuinely loved to dive back into studying, head first. However, she didn’t know if it was particularly necessary to her current job to know counter curses to the most common dark curses, she simply went down a rabbit hole when she came home from the awkward dinner at Grimmauld Place that Saturday night.

“Good Morning, Miss, you are late,” Gippy said, a clear hint of irritation noticeable in his voice, as she passed through the fireplace into the guardhouse. The house-elf was once again dressed in a too-large white polo shirt.“Gippy will escort Miss to her new office now,” The house-elf said as he opened the door for her.

Even though she’d already admired the flowerbeds in the front garden once, it still left her in awe with its pleasant and delightful view. Gippy hurried along the red gravel path. “Coach Hoogh is waiting to properly introduce you to the head Healer, Miss,” Hermione picked up her pace to keep up with the house-elf, who moved surprisingly fast considering his tiny legs. “Gippy doesn’t like to make Coach wait,” The House-Elf muttered impatiently under his breath.

“I’m so sorry Coach. Gippy doesn’t like to make Coach wait,” The House-elf said as they entered yet another office on the second floor of the Grand House. “Miss was slightly late,” Gippy grudgingly gave Hermione a slight judging look.

“That’s quite alright Gippy,, it’s only a couple of minutes, I wasn’t busy yet, I don’t mind,” Coach Hoogh tried to reassure the free House-Elf. Gippy still had some trouble properly adjusting to being an employee instead of a servant.

“It’s all my fault I didn’t know what fireplace in the estate I’d walk out of,” Hermione apologized for her tardiness. “I hadn’t accounted for the walk through the front garden,”

“From now onward you can use the fireplace in here, in your office,” Coach Hoogh remarked gesturing to the fireplace behind him. Hermione looked around what was apparently going to be her office for the upcoming week. It was a modest but beautiful office decorated in the same style as the entire Grand House, dark yew wood panelling with rich red touches. There were considerable bookshelves already full of healing literature covering the walls of her office. It was comfortably similar to her old Gryffindor dormitory, almost immediately making her feel at home.

“Gippy, thank you for escorting Miss Granger to her private office, will you please immediately check if all squad members are already in the downstairs assembly room?” Coach Hoogh politely dismissed the house-elf. Gippy lowered his head in acknowledgement and apparated away with a *pop*.

“And Miss Granger, if you’d like to follow me, please,” Coach Hoogh moved towards the door, “I’d like to formally introduce you to Healer Williams,”

Healer Williams office was located directly opposite hers. A small figurine of the Common Welsh Green Dragon located on his desk seemingly giving away his Welsh heritage. 

“Good morning Henry, ready for the final preparations?” He said, still rummaging through the files on his desk, once he looked up he spotted Coach Hoogh wasn’t alone. “Oh, hello, you must be Hermione Granger?” He politely asked her, giving her a bright smile.

“Yes, Jonathan, I supposed it was best if you’d properly meet Miss Granger straight away, as there are only a couple of days left before we need to transfer this entire operation to Argentina,” Coach Hoogh explained.

“Of course, good thinking, It’s nice to meet you, Miss Granger, I’m Head Healer Jonathan Williams,” He held out his hand for her to shake. “I’ve heard a lot about you,”

“All good I hope?” Hermione smiled nervously, she didn’t like her celebrity status, often misleading people into having the wrong assumptions even before they would get to know her.

“Saviour of the wizarding world? Of course, it’s all good,” He smiled at her, “Though I must say Chaser Weasley does like to gossip about her friends on the treatment table from time to time.”

Hermione internally groaned. She could have strangled Ginny at that very moment. Why couldn’t the redhead have held her tongue? She wouldn’t have been in this slightly awkward conversation with her new bosses if Ginny had. Hermione returned Healer Williams' smile weakly.

“I can assure you. I’ve heard nothing but good things,” Healer Williams told her. Sensing that he had made her feel slightly awkward.

“Well, Miss Granger, Jonathan, I’ll leave you to it,” Coach Hoogh addressed them both. “I’ve got the morning meeting to get to. Jon, I’ve put ten o’clock on the board for the prehab is that okay?” 

“That’s absolutely fine, I’ll get Miss Granger up to scratch, so she’ll be able to assist me by then.” The dark blonde healer positively assured Coach Hoogh. “Please take a seat, Miss Granger,” Healer Williams gestured towards the chairs in front of his desk.

“Sooo, you all seem to be on a first-name basis, when are you going to drop the Miss?” Hermione politely asked as the door clicked shut. “I don’t think proper etiquette is the way to go in high-stress situations on the pitch.”

“I thought to be polite for the first day in the office.” He stated, “Though I suppose you’re right, we should get this out of the way. What would you prefer, your first or last name?”

“I think my last name would work best on the pitch because it’s shorter, but if you don’t mind I’d like to be called by my given name when possible.”

“Duly noted, you can call me Williams, Jon or Jonathan, I respond to all. However, I’d spare you the contemptuous nickname my teammates used to have for me at the Chiefs.” The man that seemed in his early thirties grinned at her. “Have you brushed up on your practical healing since Thursday?”

“Every spare minute,” Hermione candidly confessed.

“I wouldn’t have expected anything less, going by what I’ve heard from Chaser Weasley,” Williams smiled at her.

“Wait, did I hear that right? You used to play professional quidditch?” Hermione returned to the off-hand remark he made a couple of moments back.

“Yes, you don’t get these,” he promptly moved his dusky blond hair away from his ears, revealing a distinct set of cauliflower ears, “from healer training.” He grinned at her.

“Then how?” Hermione was utterly confused. “Don’t get me wrong, but you don’t seem over the general retirement age at all,”

“I suppose I’d take that as a compliment,” He laughed, “I used to be a beater, played with Coach Hoogh at the Callington Chiefs back in the day. I even made it into the Welsh national squad,” Hermione knew the Welsh Green Dragon would make sense somehow, and she had been right. “But I was severely injured so many times, I picked up a lot of healing information from the team healers and got interested in the field of sports healing. And once I reached the critical point where I couldn’t pick up my kids without feeling an immense amount of acute pain, I decided to retire and went into healing. I decided I didn’t want any other players to undergo the same ordeal.” He turned a picture frame around on his desk to show her a picture of a boy and a girl sporting the same grin Williams had. “Family is more important than a professional career can ever be. To reduce the number of severe injuries, we’ve implemented a lot of necessary precautions to keep the bodies of our squad members as whole as possible, sadly we still lost Chang to early retirement this season. However, we’ve managed to get Beater Weasley back on his broom in record time.” 

“George seemed to have made a swift recovery,” Hermione heartily agreed. “So what is this prehab exactly that coach wants to have us perform at ten?” She had read something about precaution methods to prevent players from suffering more severe injuries. However, the practice was still very new, and there weren’t many good books written about the topic yet.

“Even though magic can heal many injuries, repeat injuries can lead to long-term damage, as you might well know,” Hermione had indeed read up on repeat injuries and the severe damage it could undoubtedly have on joints and tendons, “Many of our squad players have retained some kind of long term damage at some point in their bodies, we will typically use all methods cleared by the International Board Against the Misuse of Potions and Spells in Sports to adequately prepare their bodies as best as we can before every training session and match.” 

“That sounds logical,” Hermione unanimously agreed.

“I reasonably assume you’re familiar with the stabilizing and cushioning spells?” Williams asked.

Hermione nodded in response.

“Every player should have a medical file with their usual spellwork. However, you should always confirm that’s what they require at that moment. Most of the time the body parts are still completely functional, and it’s a choice for the player if they want the extra spellwork.”

“Why wouldn’t they want cushioning and stabilizing charms all the time?” Hermione asked, genuinely surprised.

“Well, Hermione, they’ve typically played this game without any enhancements since they were kids, The spellwork can severely alter their intuitive feelings while playing the game, and not every player wants that all the time,” Williams gently explained.

“But what if it’s medically necessary?” She frantically asked.

“In that case, you can overrule them and place them under just the necessary spellwork for the condition.” Before Hermione could protest any more, Williams added: “You are always welcome to try to convince the players to voluntarily undergo more spellwork. However, we’ve only got an allocated time to get all our players ready for the practice or game.”

“Coach Hoogh told me you’re also responsible for Dakota’s education this upcoming campaign?”

Hermione nodded once more.

“Can I leave you to work on that?” He politely asked. “I need to do some boring logistical stuff for the intended move to Argentina, I’ll come and get you before I go downstairs to the treatment area.” 

“I should instantly get on that, so thanks, I’ll see you at ten,” Hermione said as she hurried back to her own office.

This new job was quite overwhelming, there had been a lot of recent advancements in the academic field of sports healing since her healer training had ended, and general healer training did not dive into the nitty-gritty of all the healing disciplines. Hermione wasn’t as confident in her own abilities as Williams and Coach Hoogh seemed to be. One thing Hermione was confident she would excel in, was tutoring Haley. She had basically tutored Ron and Harry all through Hogwarts. Hermione was very grateful to be tutoring Haley, it gave her a boost of confidence at doing this job. It was one of the things she knew she could do well. It wasn’t that she was an incapable Healer, she was just a little out of practice. But, with Williams by her side, and his knowledge and experience as a sports healer, she was confident that she would pick up the skills she needed swiftly. She had always been a fast learner.

She quickly wrote a letter to Headmistress McGonagall, asking her former head of house what would Haley be required to know by the upcoming November and to send in the proposed current curriculum for the first semester. Hermione had decided it would be much easier to get ahead of Haley’s studies in the training camp stage. By the time the actual games of the world cup would commence, recovery would be much more important than education. The amount of recovery the youthful seeker would typically need would all be dependent on if she’d actually be capable to overtake Malfoy as the first choice seeker.

Once the letter was properly sealed and Seiron was promptly sent on his way, Hermione went to properly inspect the contents of the books on her bookshelves. Williams had made sure all the most recent discoveries about his view on sports healing were available to her. She carefully picked up the copy of: ‘The potential effects of magic on the physiology of the human body under high strain’ by P.H. Pomfrey and started reading up on the subject matter.

A knock on the door broke her concentration, and she looked up at the door and the clock that sat next to it, it was 9.45.

“Hermione, are you ready to go down to the treatment rooms?” Williams asked as he pushed open the door of her office. “I’d like to show you where everything you might need is before the players are done with their morning meeting.”

“Oh yes, of course, just let me put this book away,” Hermione answered as she gently manoeuvred the book back onto the bookshelf using her wand.

After they made their way down through the labyrinth of red Victorian hallways, they ended up in a different hallway where the atmosphere was in stark contrast with the rest of the grand house. 

“One of the first things I did was create a more hospital-like environment within the treatment hallway,” Williams adequately explained the clean white walls and polished floor. “Every so often we do get severe injuries we need to treat and well, proper hygiene can achieve a lot,” 

“Good thinking, it looks a lot like St Mungo’s,” She justly remarked. 

“You can use treatment room C for today,” He remarked as he walked over to the bright white door with a large C on it. 

The treatment room was simple and functional. There was a polished desk with parchments and a chair for the players. In addition, there was a treatment table where players would possibly have to lay down for their treatment. Behind the desk was a cabinet.

“All the IBAMPSS approved potions are in there, there’s a larger cabinet in room G, at the end of the hallway where the stronger potions are kept. But for now, please consult with me before you issue one of those to one of the players. You’ve read up on IBAMPSS approved spells?”

“Yes, I’ve done it right after I owled the letter about Haley’s education to McGonagall.” She earnestly assured him.

“Well if you are unsure about a certain spell, just tap that ruby on your desk, if it doesn’t light up it’s a grade 1 spell and you can use it at any time. If it starts flashing, it’s a grade 2 and just like the potions, give me a shout before you use it. If it starts to permanently light up, it's grade 3 and you should exclusively use it when there’s no other option. Grade 3 would likely occur if it’s a life-threatening situation, players aren’t allowed to competitively play for a month after the use of a grade 3 potion or spell, so if you can prevent it, please do.” 

This was a lot of information for Hermione to take in. She tried to securely store it all away in an easy to access spot in her mind. “Grade 1; no reaction, free to use. Grade 2; flashing, give you a shout if it’s needed. Grade 3; constant red, don’t use unless necessary. Got it,” She relayed to Williams.

“Great! Get settled in and I’ll promptly send you the medical file on the first player in a bit, the player will get in as soon as their meeting with Henry is over..” Williams informed her, “Head up, Hermione you can do this,”

As she sat down, she wondered which player Williams would send her. Probably not George being so early in his process to full recovery he must still need to receive a lot of cushioning and stabilizing charms on his body. It was possible she’d get the opportunity to get a closer look at Roger Davies’ body and could find out what exactly Ginny found so appealing about him. Hermione didn’t think Ginny got any spellwork done before a quidditch session, she had never heard her friend talk about it. She didn’t have to wonder long as a file slipped under the white door and instantly flew towards her desk. Hermione groaned as she read the title of the file.

D.L. Malfoy Medical Information

June 5th 1980

England & Bathbombers

Seeker

Just my luck, she thought. With considerable hesitation, she cautiously opened the file to note what he required to have done. 

There was an insistent knock on the door. Hermione looked up at the clock it was 5 past 10, that’d most likely be Malfoy.

She took a deep breath before bluntly answering. “Come in,”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, you?” The blonde drawled as soon as his grey eyes landed on her, “I had sincerely hoped to start the week a bit better,”

“Nice to see you, too, Malfoy,” Hermione remarked, feigning a saccharine-sweet tone.

“Let’s just get this over with so we can get on with our lives,” Malfoy stated as he moved to take his top off. “Shall we?”

Hermione was slightly confused, “What?”

“My crooked shoulder, Granger,” Malfoy gestured towards his right shoulder, “I would guess a bookworm like you would have read up immediately on a file directed their way.” He pointed at his medical file on her desk as he moved over to the treatment table, not ashamed of his half-naked body at all.

“Yes, of course,” Hermione shook her head earnestly trying to get her focus back. Did she really just get flustered by Draco Malfoy’s half-naked body, what was wrong with her? Come to think of it, why had Ginny failed to mention that the pointy scrawny boy from school had filled out to a firm chiselled man with strong angular features. “Sorry, it’s my first day and Williams just laid a lot of information on me,”

“I bet he did, just get over here and do the spellwork on my shoulder,” He gestured with his left hand over his right shoulder, as he sat on the treatment table facing her. “I’d like to do some personal skills before practice properly starts,”

This already looked like a different person than the Malfoy that had walked into her treatment room only moments ago and it was completely another person than the one she met last Thursday. If she stopped and really thought about it, all these faces of Draco Malfoy would leave her head spinning. 

“First of all Malfoy, I am here working as a healer, I am no servant of yours. I expect you to talk to me with respect. At least in my own office. Or I will simply not help you” She said through clenched teeth, standing from her desk and giving him a stern look before starting to head towards the exam table. She was having an excellent day before this ferret had shown his face.

Malfoy rolled his eyes, “Whatever Granger.”

“Anyways, I hadn't had the time to read your entire file before you came in,” Hermione said as she softly prodded the point of her wand around his rotator cuff softly muttering stabilizing charms. As her left hand moved over his shoulder muscles to inspect her work, she felt the firmness of them, indicating that even though his shoulders weren’t overly bulky they held a lot of strength. 

“Just Quidditch, sometimes catching the snitch to end the game is more important than getting out of the game in one piece.” He confessed candidly, shrugging his shoulders.

“Malfoy, please hold your shoulder still when I’m working on it.” She gripped his shoulder with her free left hand trying to hold his shoulder in place, instantly making him flinch.

“Did that hurt?” Hermione asked curiously.

“Obviously it fucking hurt Granger! You gripped my bad shoulder!” He snapped viciously.

“Well, it’s an old injury, it should be completely healed,” Hermione noted as Malfoy rolled his eyes. “What I mean is that my gripping your right shoulder should have a similar reaction as me gripping your good shoulder.” Hermione clarified. To demonstrate she gripped his left shoulder, and as she had suspected Malfoy didn’t flinch. “See? Different reactions,” she said smugly, satisfied her initial diagnosis was correct.

“Well, ten points to Gryffindor, congrats Granger,” He said sarcastically, “Can you please just finish fixing me up already, I could’ve been on my broom ten minutes ago.”

Hermione was so perplexed by Malfoy’s usages of the word please she had to take a moment before she could continue her work on his shoulder.

“So you’ve never mentioned the residual pain to Williams?” She asked after a couple of moments.

“It didn’t seem necessary, it doesn’t limit me while playing,” he answered honestly.

“Is it okay if I talk to him about it?”

“As long as it won’t make Coach Hoogh take me out of the starting seven, I don’t give a rats arse what you’re doing Granger,” He responded.

“Stabilizing is done.” She said as she finished her last stabilizing cycle. “Will you need some extra cushioning? It was in your file. It’s stated as optional.” She asked politely.

Malfoy, however, was already redressing himself. “As a rule of thumb for you, I usually only require extra cushioning for games or game simulations.” He said while rushing out of the door.

Hermione moved over to her desk and sat down with a heavy sigh. She really hoped her interaction with Malfoy wasn’t an example of how all her interactions with the former Slytherin players on the squad would go. There were quite a lot of former Slytherin’s in the squad and it would really complicate her time working for the English Quidditch Union if they’d all behave the way Malfoy had just done.

When the next file slid onto her desk she knew she’d get the chance to find it out right away.

A.J. Pucey Medical Information

July 5th 1978

England & Bath Bombers

Chaser

Before she had the chance to read his file, the dirty blonde rushed into her office without knocking. “Where are the manners,” Hermione muttered under her breath.

“Can you fix me up, quickly?” The Quidditch player asked, already sitting down on the treatment table. “I’ve got to go to training and Williams is still working on Weasley.”

“What is wrong with you people?’ Hermione exclaimed frustratingly.

He looked up at her questioningly.

“I haven’t even had the chance to have a look at your file,” She looked down to the cover of the file. “Pucey.” 

“Sorry, Miss…” Pucey looked at her nameplate on her desk, “Granger. My mother has taught me better manners.” 

“Did she now?” Somehow Hermione couldn’t believe pureblood mothers teaching their children to be polite to all ‘classes’ of society.

“Can you just give me a hand, please?” Pucey asked, sporting a cheeky smile.

“Only because it’s in my job description.” She said as she stood from her desk and moved over to where Pucey was sitting on the exam table. “You haven’t given me any time to look at your file, what can I do for you?”

“Stabilizing charms on my neck and a dose of Papavera Essence,” Pucey casually remarked.

“I can stabilize your neck, but I can’t give you the potion,” She stated as she lowered the treatment table to have better access to his neck.

Pucey craned his neck to look up at her. “Can’t you make an exception, just this once?”

“It’s a Grade 3 potion, Pucey, you must know that,” Hermione said as she started slowly putting stabilizing spells on his neck. 

He simply shrugged.

“Is Williams even still working on George?” She asked accusingly.

“I don’t know, his door was closed,” Pucey finally gave in.

A few stabilizing charms later the Bath Chaser was out the door already. And Hermione was left wondering if all these Slytherin’s were such special characters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is wrong with these damn Slytherins...  
> I chose the Papavera Essence as the Grade 3 painkiller because of the poppy flower.  
> Please comment and tell me what you think


	5. A Picture Says More Than A Thousand Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rita Skeeter is at it again, it messes up not only Hermione's life but the whole schedule of the squad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'ing thanks go to Kiwi05622, she has also created the amazing mood board for the chapter.

After another long day of prepping the players and fixing minor injuries that had occurred during the training session, followed by quite a gruelling transfiguration tutor session with Haley, Hermione finally arrived home that Tuesday evening. She was determined to just crash on her plush sofa and eagerly devour the dinner Williams had thankfully let her take home from the HQ’s kitchens.

Fate, however, had other plans. The Prophet owl had dropped the evening edition of the newspaper off early that evening.

_ The Golden Girl Strikes Yet Again.  _

The sensational headline just above the fold of the evening Prophet practically screamed at her. Hesitant to know what the tabloid media had cooked up this time around, Hermione unfolded the newspaper. There was an image of her hurrying into the broad ornamental doors of HQ, because in her hurry that particular morning, she had once again forgotten to specify the exact fireplace she wanted to emerge from and had arrived in the Old Guard House to an annoyed Gippy once again. How Skeeter had gotten her paparazzi into the private grounds of the Mills Park estate was beyond her, but then again that woman had become an unregistered animagus just so she could get the scoops.

The picture wasn’t the problem. It was adamant that her involvement with the English Quidditch Union would have come out, sooner rather than later. It wasn’t even that much of a shock that it had leaked before the official announcement of Coach Hoogh. Hermione didn’t exactly know why but Coach Hoogh had been pushing back the official statement without really offering her a sufficient reason as to why. 

The story that had accompanied the picture on Page Six contained sheer slander. Due to Skeeter, Hermione had been having a ‘Steamy affair behind the back of respected former Holyhead Harpy’s Seeker and dedicated mum Cho Chang, with her long-time partner and devoted father of her dear children, Miles Bletchley.’ The claims were thoroughly unfounded of course. The baseless claims had sprung from the alleged fact that Cho hadn’t visited the estate in Somerset yet during this World Cup Campaign, but then again none of the families ever visited HQ during training camps unless their loved ones had suffered some kind of severe injury in practice. But why had Skeeter tried to link her with Bletchley, where were the grounds to this malicious rumour. She hadn’t even said a single word to him before that conversation in the gym that past Thursday. The conversation hadn’t been flirty whatsoever, and there’s no way Skeeter could’ve been privy to that conversation at all.

She decided to write Cho to ask if she would have lunch with her the following day, while also promising herself she would talk to Coach Hoogh first thing in the morning and demand he would break the news of her role within the English Quidditch Union straightaway. With all that set up, she went to bed so utterly exhausted she even forgot the delicious dinner now turning cold on the kitchen counter.

After yet another uneasy night, Hermione woke up from her blaring alarm. The rhythm of her new job wasn’t that different to her previous work in St Mungo’s, she just always had to get used to her new environment to be able to have full nights of peaceful sleep. Plus, that Skeeter article that had been published last night did have her rattled a bit.

Once she reached the kitchen, Seiron had dropped off Cho’s confirmation for their lunch plans that afternoon next to the plate of food on the kitchen counter. Cho also insisted it was normal for Page Six articles to publish the most insane rumours they could think of and that she didn’t blame Hermione one bit for it. Her eyes fell upon the now cold Chicken Alfredo dish next to Cho’s response. After checking if the stasis charm was still in place she chucked it into the refrigerator, it would be a crime if she’d let this delicious dinner made by the head chef Koozie, another free house-elf hired to cook meals for the staff and player squad, go to waste. Even though the House-Elves were paid, she didn’t want to let their hard work to be for nothing.

She went over what to say to the fireplace a million times to make sure she’d actually appear in her office and not have to face the possible paparazzi in her walk from the Old Guard House to the main house. She stepped into the fireplace with a handful of floo powder and spoke loud and clear The Office of Assistant Healer Hermione Jean Granger, Mills Park Estate, Second Floor.

Once she stepped out of the emerald flames and was not greeted by the annoyed look of Gippy. She let out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding and instantly a weight fell off her shoulders. She hadn’t noticed just how tense she had been this morning.

“Ah, I see you’ve finally made the Floo network work for you?” Williams laughed from his office across the hall. Both the doors to their offices were wide open, making it possible for Hermione to see the entirety of the Head Healer’s office.

“The security of the floos in this place is next level,” she said bluntly. “I swear, yesterday I merely forgot to announce on which floor my office was and I was promptly redirected to the Old Guard House.” 

“We wouldn’t want anyone to suddenly penetrate our Headquarters,” Williams shrugged simply.

“Well, I guess you’ve undoubtedly seen the article in the Prophet yesterday evening,” The dusky haired healer nodded his head in affirmation, “Why can’t the front garden be just as secure as the interior fireplaces?” Hermione asked frustrated.

“Theoretically it is, we never experienced any problems with reporters from Quaffle Weekly, only when we get close to the bigger tournaments and Page Six gets involved, we have the occasional security issue,” The Head Healer explained.

“That damn Skeeter Woman, I should’ve reported her back in fourth year,” Hermione uttered under her breath. 

“What?” Williams asked not having heard her clearly.

“Nothing important,” Hermione said quickly, “Do you know where Coach is? I want that official statement about my appointment here out as soon as possible to clear some of this dreadful mess.” She asked.

“The players are down in the pool for group recovery,” Williams had looked down at his schedule, “I haven’t received the final schedule for today yet. I think Henry is in his office going over it.” 

“Okay, I’m going to check in with him. Prehab is at ten again?” She asked her superior.

“Yes, unless Henry drastically adjusts something,” He confirmed.

“I’ll make sure to be down in the medical wing by ten then,” She said as she hurried down the hall towards Coach Hoogh’s office. "See you at ten, Jon!" 

Coach Hoogh’s door was open as well, but he was deep into a stack of files scattered all over his desk. Seemingly not hearing the presence of her in his doorframe.

Hermione promptly knocked on the open door to get his attention.

“Sir,” She started.

“If you want me to call you Hermione, you could just as well call me Henry,” He interjected without looking up from his files.

“Henry,” She started again, calling him by his first name did feel a bit weird. It felt all extremely informal for being a national team squad environment. “Could I please have a word?” She naturally hesitated. “It’s regarding the official press release.”

She ultimately seized his full attention as he looked up at her. “I would like it to be out as quick as possible, especially due to the rumours currently circling in the press.”

“Yes, of course, I honestly didn’t think she’d go this low.” the black-haired wizard confessed.

“Honestly? You didn’t think RITA SKEETER; the woman who has a history of writing about me having a relationship with literally every human of the opposite sex that gets within six feet of me? You didn’t think she would find any way of turning this around into something scandalous?” Hermione demanded, frustration making her voice rise in volume. That had left Coach Hoogh speechless, he obviously had not known about Hermione’s personal history with the slanderous reporter.

Hermione took a deep breath, trying to collect her composure, before continuing, “why didn’t you put the press release out earlier?” She asked a little gentler when she had finally calmed down.

“I wanted to give you a couple of days to get settled in without the media scrutiny hanging over your head,” He humbly explained.

“Well, I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but when you are best friends with the boy who lived; you don’t get the privacy other normal people might have.” She explained to her boss.

“I’m sorry, I’ve not thought things through and put your personal life out in the media. I’ll try and move up the photoshoot, then we can include an official picture of you in your healer uniform to the press release to repress all rumours.” 

“Photoshoot?” Hermione asked genuinely surprised.

“We always take official and fun pictures of our players and staff before the notable tournaments, those pictures are typically used for official press releases and matchday programs,” Henry clarified.

“Okay, thank you for understanding.” She said as she moved towards the hallway. “And moving the schedule around for me,”

“Hermione, I’m truly sorry, I honestly didn’t know about Skeeter’s personal obsession with your private life,” He said before she reached the hallway.

“It’s fine, you couldn’t have known,” She dismissed him.

“I know what it feels like to be dragged through the mud by the press, and I’m your boss. I should’ve known and protected you from this slander.” He pressed on.

“Thank you for moving up the press release,” She said as she moved to close his office door and truly end this conversation. Had she just raised her voice towards her boss? What was Skeeter doing to her?

Once she came back to her and Williams’s part of the second-floor hallways, the other healer rushed out of his office, almost colliding with her in the hallway.

“Ah Granger, good your back,” Williams said as he spotted her, “Coach Hoogh has just moved up the training session, we need to start prehab,” He looked at his wristwatch to check the time, “like five minutes ago,”

“He moved the photoshoot to today,” she stated, “I think that might have something to do with it,” 

“Why does he always do this to me, change the schedule at the last possible minute,” Williams huffed frustratedly as he hurried towards the grand staircase.

“To keep you on your toes, mate,” Coach Hoogh shouted from his side of the upstairs hallway.

Hermione’s first player to stabilize that Wednesday morning was, of course, none other than Miles Bletchley himself. The tall keeper, still wearing nothing but his swimming trunks, strutted into her treatment room almost as soon as she had sat down at her desk. 

“I switched with Pucey, I thought it would be better if we’d have a chat,” He explained, Hermione was quite happy she wouldn’t have to deflect all Pucey’s desperate attempts to get regulated potions that morning, and a chat with Bletchley regarding the Page Six article was also not such a bad idea.

“Why the outfit, though,” Hermione asked nervously, trying not to eye up the caramel chiselled torso of the man standing at ease before her. She somehow felt the ominous presence of Rita Skeeter with her in the room as soon as Bletchley had stepped into her treatment room. Skeeter could not be there however, the wards of the Main House were simply too strong.

“I need to have some work done on my back, found it useless to dress just to get out of my shirt again the second I got here,” He explained himself. “Cho mentioned in her floo-call this morning that you guys are going out for lunch?” 

“I just wanted to apologize for the article,” She said as she picked up his file. Although she instantly decided to look into it would take more time than merely asking the player what he required of her. “What can I do for you Bletchley?” She asked, extremely professionally. Damn Skeeter had wormed her way into her head.

“You know, nothing about that article is your fault, Granger” He stated, having seemingly picked up on her somewhat awkward behaviour, “And my back is sore, I need it stabilized and could use a small pain relief charm, I think I somehow twitched it yesterday,” 

“I feel it would be best if she and I meet for lunch and speak face to face to clear the accusations. Besides, I haven’t seen her since she had to retire, we are well overdue for a catchup,” Hermione said as she moved over to Bletchley who sat with his back towards her on the treatment table. “Lower back or upper back?” She then realized that wouldn’t be precise enough either so she added: “Could you maybe just point to the specific area you’d like stabilized?” He moved his hand to rest on the junction of his lumbar and thoracic spine. 

Once the stabilizing treatment was completed and Bletchley was practically out her door she called after him. “Bletchley,” He turned around, “I do genuinely appreciate you checking up on me, it’s just that picture, Skeeter has me a bit paranoid,” 

He smiled knowingly down at her, “It’s understandable, I’d say you get used to it in this field, but you’ve had her obsessing over you since Hogwarts, I’ll see you around, Granger!” And he carefully closed the door of her treatment room.

Not long after, the now-familiar folder containing Malfoy’s medical files slipped under her door. Swiftly followed by the Bath Seeker barging into her treatment room.

“Can’t you knock?” Hermione sighed, placing the folder to the side.

“Isn’t the flying file warning enough?” the platinum blonde drawled.

“I’m not in the mood for our daily bickering session today, Malfoy,” She said.

“A-ha, So the Skeeter article got to you?” He smirked as he took off his shirt and sat down on the treatment table, his back facing her.

“Of course it did, she accused me of sleeping with the partner of one of my friends,” Hermione exclaimed indignantly.

“It would increase Miles credibility, he has been dreadfully boring since being joined at the hip with Chang,” Malfoy dramatically stated, “Are you going to come over to stabilize my shoulder anytime soon?”

“It’s always charming to see how nice you are to your decade long teammate’s partner,” Hermione shot back as she finally stood from her desk chair and moved over to the seeker sitting on the treatment table. “So, I talked to Coach Hoogh yesterday, he has agreed for us to have one-on-one sessions to progressively reduce the pain in your shoulder and work on strengthening the surrounding muscles.” She had talked to Hoogh the day before, after finding Malfoy’s right shoulder heavily sensitive once again during their prehab session. Monday had not been a one-off like Malfoy had claimed the previous day. There was some serious difference in sensitivity and strength between his shoulders.

“Great, just great,” He muttered impatiently. She felt his shoulder tense up as she softly put her left hand on his skin.

“I expect you in the gym after practice today,” She felt his shoulders slump under her touch, “I’ll explain the exercises to you then.” She said as she continued stabilizing his right shoulder.

“Is this sufficient?” She asked as she finished the stabilizing charms and her fingers had thoroughly examined her work. Malfoy rolled his shoulder and cracked his neck.

“That’ll do.” He stood up and moved towards the door.

“This afternoon, in the gym, be there or you’ll be sorry,” She threatened him.

“Whatever, Granger,” She couldn’t see him roll his eyes but she could detect it in his voice.

“At least, you’re still in the starting seven. I kept my promise,” Hermione somehow felt she had to defend herself.

“Coach hasn’t made a single starting lineup yet, Granger, the only thing he hasn’t done is kick me out of the squad completely,” Malfoy said as he walked out of her treatment room. He shut the door with a loud bang not giving her a chance to respond to his statement.

At one o’clock she left her office to take the floo to Miles’ and Cho’s townhouse in central Bath. Once she stepped through the fireplace, she was greeted enthusiastically by two curly-haired toddlers running towards her and tightly hugging her legs.

“I’m sorry,” Cho said as she appeared out of a doorway into the parlour Hermione had just arrived in. “Floo entries from Mills House produce a distinct noise, they must’ve thought Miles came home for lunch.”

Hermione carefully pried the two young boys from her legs. 

“Don’t worry, I would never blame two children to want to see their dad,” Hermione assured Cho. “What’s the plan? Are we going out or staying in?”

“Due to the short notice, I couldn’t get anyone to babysit the boys,” Cho explained, “Do you mind having lunch in the dining room here, I could have lunch delivered from Joia in 15 minutes.” 

“That sounds lovely,” Hermione started, “I would like a couple of minutes for a private conversation about the thing though,” 

“Honestly, Hermione, there’s no need,” Cho reassured her, “Miles and I have had worse rumours over the years, we had a good laugh about it this morning.”

“If you say so, I’m just sorry for my part in it.” 

“You have had no part in it,” Cho assured her while she dragged the boys into the dining room.

“Lunch it is then, I’d love to have a salad,” Hermione said as she entered the dining room herself. “The meals at Mills Park are so carb-heavy,” 

“Oh tell me about it, Koozie is amazing but her meals do need some major exercise to burn off,” Cho laughed. “I couldn’t handle them anymore with my current exercise regime,” 

Cho conjured a pot of tea and put the prepared meals of her sons in front of her. Not soon after the boys got stuck in their lunch, the salads for Hermione and Cho arrived.

“I need to get back soon, Coach Hoogh moved up the practice,” Hermione said as she finished her salad. Cho looked up from her plate, the confusion clear in her eyes, “I demanded him to move up the press release, he said he would like to have the photoshoot before the press release so he could use a professional photo.”

“Coach Hoogh, rearranged his precious schedule for you?” Cho said, the shock clear in her voice. “And you’re going like that?”

“What’s wrong with how I look?”

“Nothing, Hermione, it’s just, those pictures go everywhere, in the world,” Cho explained, “Avery once told me she overslept for the ‘94 photoshoot, she had to suffer through those pictures up until the next photoshoot for the ‘95 Quidditch Championship.”

“Won’t they have a hair and make-up artist on set,” Hermione asked.

“They’re men, they don’t understand what kind of artist to hire.” Cho sighed, “Come, I’ll fix your hair,”

Once Hermione stepped back into the Grand House of Mills Park, she found Williams office empty. When she went to search for him she heard a lot of commotion coming from the ground floor. 

“For Merlin’s Sake, Smith, you aren’t even a seeker why did you think it was necessary to let out the snitch?” She heard Coach Hoogh’s voice through the large ornamental doors on the left of the grand staircase.

When she crossed into the large ballroom set up to be the photoshoot set. She walked into pure chaos. Murray, the seeker specialist coach, was actually flying around on his broom trying to catch the snitch. While the players were now scrambling around in their match kit trying to gather the snitch from the ground. Fay Dunbar stood in front of a white canvas trying to conclude her photoshoot. She playfully swung the Beater Bat around with a broad smile on her face.

“It was next to the quaffle you asked me to get,” Smith tried to defend himself, “and the seekers still have to take their photographs, I thought I was being helpful,” He shrugged his shoulders.

“I hadn’t put the containment charms on it yet,” Coach Hoogh rubbed his face in frustration, then turned towards the door and spotted Hermione in the doorframe, “Good, you’re back, we’ve got a bit of a problem, but your photos will be taken soon.” 

“Next up,” The photographer looked down at the list “Weasley, George.” 

George struggled to get up from the tiny chair he had folded his 6’7 frame into. Once he stood up straight, he moved almost smoothly towards the canvas, taking the beater bat from Dunbar.

“We need the serious pictures first,” The photographer moved away from the camera beckoning George to drop the bat and stand facing the camera with his arms folded, eyes seriously looking down at the camera.

After all the beaters were photographed, it was time for the chasers to get their picture taken. Some of the chasers had magically tightened their already tight match kit to be like a second skin. Hermione could only roll her eyes at the vain gesture. When she scanned the ballroom from her seat next to the door, she could see Ginny’s eyes hover over Roger Davies’ torso a bit too long.

“Fancy seeing you here,” George wormed himself into the seat to Hermione’s right.

“I’m glad someone is happy I’m here,” Hermione kept her eyes sternly fixed on the chasers being photographed in front of her.

“I’ve got it!” Murray triumphantly exclaimed. Making a victory lap around the ballroom.

“Get down here, Jamie,” Coach Hoogh yelled, “and don’t you dare let that thing go,”

“Is it that bad?” George brought her attention back to their conversation.

“Oh no, not at all, Pucey just constantly tries to get regulated potions out of me, and I’ve accidentally set myself up as Malfoy’s personal prehab healer,” 

As if mentioning his name had called him into the ballroom, the blonde waltzed into the room, happily chatting away with Haley. He froze as he spotted her.

“Well I’m glad you’re here,” George hadn’t spotted the silent staring contest going on between Hermione and Malfoy. She was not about to back down.

The pair of Seekers made their way towards George and Hermione. “You’ve done something to your hair?” Malfoy awkwardly asked her.

“Cho did a couple of spells on it after lunch,” Hermione thought the way Cho had fixed her hair was rather pretty. She pulled her hair up in a messy bun with a couple of loose curls framing her face. Now, she couldn’t push down the way Malfoy had suddenly made her feel conscious about it.

“So, you’re shagging Miles one day and having lunch with his wife and kids the following day,” Malfoy drawled, “What are you looking for Granger? To start a throuple with the Bletchley-Chang’s?” 

“Shut it, Malfoy,” George interrupted before Hermione could defend herself, “or do you want me to remind you of that one rumour about the night you had out in Bath after the final??”

That had Malfoy silenced, he quickly turned his head and moved over to sit with Bletchley on the other side of the ballroom.

“God, Draco is so weird around you,” Haley said as she sat down in the chair on Hermione’s left.

“Tell me about it,” Hermione sighed, eyeing his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We got Draco twice! yaaaaay, and we've got to look forward to one-on-one sessions, gheghegheghe.  
> Please tell me what you thought of the chapter.


	6. Bittersweet Goodbyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the last day before the departure to Argentina.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mood board and beta'ing thanks to kiwi05622,  
> I'm sorry for the late update, a very smutty festpiece got stuck in my brain, but I tried to make up for it by writing a longer chapter.

The rest of the week for Hermione had turned into some kind of routine even though she had only just started the job. In the mornings, she’d come in early to have a coffee with Ginny and let her have her daily gossip about her teammates and the previous day’s locker room talk. Later, it would be prehab and somehow Malfoy was always one of her patients, she didn’t know if Jon purposely didn't want to deal with him himself or if he had some other reason. Pucey would also always try to weasel his way into her schedule and try to get more potions than he was legally allowed. She never yielded, however, and he was getting more annoyed by the day. Hermione had hoped he would eventually give up and stay on William’s schedule. Rita Skeeter, in the meantime, kept churning out lies in the prophet, the only thing Hermione was sort of happy about was the fact that she was not her only target anymore.

Coach Hoogh had kept his promise, and The English Quidditch Union had indeed issued an official statement about Hermione’s new job within the organisation. She had gotten an awful lot of owls bluntly telling her the people of England didn’t trust their precious England Players in her grossly incapable hands. There were even a couple of letters from wizards from other nations saying they were glad she was the England Mediwitch assistant as she would most likely fuck up some of England’s key players and give their team a better shot at the title. Hermione had never known people were this invested in sports, but she should’ve known, seeing it’s all Ron ever talked about. She just didn’t know there were that many Ron’s all over the world. 

It was nearing 3 o’clock on Friday. The last thing on her schedule was the daily rehab session with Malfoy before she could go home and stress over what one should bring on a four-month trip. To a country of which one does not know the climate. It was always great to end the day with a session with England’s, scrap that, the world’s most privileged player.

Malfoy's medical file moved from the filing room down the hall to her private filing cabinet in her treatment room. A sign that she indeed was the sole healer working on Malfoy.

It still tried to hit her in the face as soon as the clock hit three. None of the other files ever did that. The file must have taken on some of his arrogant personality. However, the player linked to the medical record did not barge into her treatment room exactly on time like he usually did, which was… slightly odd.

Suddenly the door finally flung open, and the Seeker barged in like he owned the place, which to be fair he presumably partly did, with all the generous donations to English Quidditch his family had made over the centuries. Hermione could do nothing but sigh at his eccentric behaviour.

“You’re late,” she justly remarked as she moved towards the treatment table, where he sat, already half-naked.

“We’ve got this thing, coming up, you might have heard from it, it’s kind of important,” he finally turned to face her sitting on her treatment table, “the Quidditch World Cup. Ever heard of it? No?” 

When she steadfastly refused to stoop to his level and answer the absurd question, he simply went on.

“But then again, what can you expect from someone who’s always seen the Quidditch stands of the Hogwarts Stadium merely as an extension of the library,”

Hermione got up from her seat and walked over to the treatment table. “I get it. Murray had you likely do extra rounds, and Haley probably beat you at something, you’re irritated, and you want to get a rise out of me because of it,” She nudged his good shoulder in an attempt to get him to lay face down on the table, “but I really just want to get this over with,” He resisted for a bit but finally gave in and laid down.

“Finally, we agree on something Granger,” He said as he adjusted on the treatment table to lay there as comfortably as humanly possible.

“Anyway, have you experienced any pain during today’s training?” He might be a prick, but she was going to be professional about it.

“No, it was fine,” his voice was muffled by the bench.

“Did you perceive any difference in strength? Or range of motion?” 

“Strength seems fine, ooooh,” he exclaimed in pain as Hermione found a pressure point on his shoulder blade and pressed down onto it with her fingers. “Range of motion is not ideal, but it’s getting better,” he said through gritted teeth, shoulders still tense from Hermione's fingers prodding in the sore muscles.

“There also seem to be fewer knots in your muscles compared to yesterday. Was the training easier, or is this a valid result,” Hermione asked, still astonished by the way a human body could heal itself and be as strong as it once was even around very damaging injuries. 

“Training was about to be the same, just slightly less stress on the shoulder, I suppose. Are you genuinely surprised that your own techniques work, Granger? Are you sure this is proper healing and not some weird muggle mumbo jumbo?” 

“Malfoy, it has, in fact, considerable parts of muggle medicine mixed in, and it works for them, it should also work on magical people. It just seems to work rather fast on you,” She remarked. Why did she give him a sincere compliment like that? Even though it was true, his shoulder was superbly responsive. It would inflate his already massive ego.

“So, that’s it!” She smacked his good shoulder, a little harder than she wanted. “You’re done for today, and I suppose we could even lessen the stabilisations spells on you next week, it might improve range of motion. If you keep up your stretches and exercises at home.” 

Malfoy sat up on the treatment table but did not seem to get up to leave yet.

“So, how does this all work?” He asked, waving his left hand over his right shoulder, seemingly indicating he was talking about her procedures.

“Well, how much have other healers told you about the state of your shoulder injury?” 

“Nothing much, the family healer often just comes and leaves potions,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “I think Williams doesn’t like me enough to indulge in my natural curiosity,” he smirked up at her during the last part of his answer.

Oh good Godric, was Malfoy... flirting? Hermione coughed to give her a moment to gather her thoughts. She was honestly just happy to educate him on the practical uses of muggle medicine.

She picked up his file to hide a blush that was threatening to appear, “Well, I read in your file you’ve had several reconstructive procedures on your right shoulder, both muscle and tendons repairs and bone regrowth, correct?” 

“Yeah, beaters do like to hit me a lot. I think it’s because of this,” he held up his left arm. He reached with his right to grasp his wand out from his discarded ropes on the chair facing her desk. He tapped his left forearm with his wand to remove the glamour charm, showing Hermione for the first time the arm that used to be branded with the dark mark. Hermione was in awe of the intricate and captivating design. His entire forearm was covered in a tattoo sleeve. The dark dragon caught her eyes immediately, but when she took a closer look, she saw beautiful yellow and white flowers on a background of a grassy meadow all around his forearm, it was beautiful. “Though, it beats me why it’s always my right shoulder that gets fucked up,” his voice pulled Hermione back from her engrossed state of mind.

“Wow,” Hermione couldn’t hide her surprise with professionalism quickly enough, “Why do you glamour it?” 

“It’s personal, and I’m here in a professional setting. I don’t want to talk about it. Now explain to me what the purposes are of all these things you are doing to me.” 

Hermione glared at him, quirking up one of her brows, astonished with his bluntness.

“Please?” He quickly added, barely audibly. Hermione supposed that was the best she would get from him and he did seem genuinely interested in the muggle angle of her healing methods. Educating an elitist brat on muggle excellence was something she could just not pass up on.

“Well, bone always heals quite good, Skele-Gro is painful, but it does the job,” Malfoy looked up at her encouraging her to continue, “tendon repair, however, is much more tedious. For single injuries or just everyday use, the methods are adequate. However, your repeat injuries have led to multiple reconstructions, which lead to the tendons becoming too flexible to be properly functional.”

He looked at her with intrigue.

“The tendons holding your clavicle to your shoulder have been stretched too much, resulting in reduced functionality. The injuries are quite old. Therefore, the pain does not come directly from the trauma, but the fact the surrounding muscles need to pick up the slack, which causes them to get sore more easily. My job is to make sure they get stronger, that your shoulder strength and range of motion are similar to your left shoulder, and your pain is always manageable.”

“That’s…” Malfoy seemed to need to gather his thoughts for a moment, “a lot, that’s all muggle medicine?” 

“Yeah, they don’t have all the fancy magical procedures. So they often know a bit more about the actual physiological aspect behind it all.” She shrugged.

“And no other healer has ever thought of adapting it?” He asked, confused.

“It’s quite a niche, and there are not a lot of muggle-born healers in the sports healing field. I think I’m the only one,” She smiled proudly.

Malfoy finally stood up from the treatment table and walked towards the door. With his hand on the handle, he seemed to remember something he wanted to say.

“It’s good, Granger,” He spoke towards the door.

“What?”

He turned around to face her; his hand still secure on the door handle. “I think you’re onto something here. I think your methods might help us get better. It might help us win.”

Hermione just stood there speechless as Malfoy exited her treatment room. Did he just compliment her?

Before she could gather her stuff and head back up to her office, there was a knock on her door. As she was about to open the door, Jon waltzed in. What was it with these men just walking into her personal space?

“Hermione, do you remember the pre-travel meeting Henry put on the schedule for the players?” Jon said as soon as he entered.

“Uhm no, you’ve never shared the complete non-medical schedule with me, Jon,” 

“Oh yeah, right, I’m sorry! I’m a bit all over the place due to moving the business to an entirely new country kind of thing,” He explained, and he did indeed look like he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep over the last couple of days.

“So what’s with the meeting Jon?” Hermione asked as he forgot to continue his point.

“Oh yeah, right, sorry. Henry just informed me, and the whole staff is expected to be there too,”

“Another change to keep you on your toes, yeah?” Hermione laughed as she got up to join him on his walk to the meeting room.

“To be completely honest, I don’t know if he truly forgets to tell me or just pretends he forgot,” Jon said as he moved towards the door, “Are you coming? It’s about to start.”

Jon led her through some old hidden passageways and stairs, probably used by house-elves and human slaves a long time ago.

“It’s quicker,” he mumbled under his breath.

“Why don’t we always use them to get downstairs?” Hermione asked.

“Well, watch your step here Hermione there’s a trap right in front of you, do not step on the black tile,” he warned, “it sends you straight to the dungeon,” Jon said over his shoulder as he momentarily slowed his pace.

“This place has a dungeon? What’s the use for a dungeon in the headquarters of a national quidditch union?” Hermione asked astonished, frantically scanning the ground, trying but failing to locate the damned black tile.

“Old buildings, different time? I don’t know what the English did with their players and staff back in the day.”

“How far back in the day?” Hermione asked as she came to a total standstill not daring to take another step afraid to end up in the dungeons.

Registering the fact that her voice had not come from right behind him this time, Jon turned around. 

“Why did you stop?” He asked, confused.

“I can’t bloody find that damn tile, Jon!” She exclaimed slightly panicked, her breath started picking up, but somehow her lungs didn’t take in the oxygen.

“Ah, fuck!” Jon seemed to realise the slight error he had made. “Hermione just breath, can you nod if you understand me,”

She tried to control her breathing, but it was still quite frantic. She just had to trust her body that the oxygen would reach all the essential places if she just took long, steady breaths. She had done this many times before, and she had overcome it all those times. What’s that saying? Fall seven times, stand up eight? She was going to do that now. 

Deep breath in. Hold it 1… 2… 3… 4… and breathe out. You’re going to be okay. She tried to calm herself.

“I’m going to get my wand and levitate you over to me, nod if it’s okay for me to do that,” Jon asked calmly.

If he’d levitate her over the tile, she wouldn’t touch it. He would make sure she wouldn’t touch it, and he had been through these passageways a million times it seemed. Hermione took a big gulp of air and nodded slowly. She gave him one last look before forcing her eyes shut. Afraid she would lose the little control she had over her breathing if she’d cross the trap with her eyes open.

She felt her feet slowly leave the floor and gently float forward. “Breath, Hermione, everything is going to be okay.” 

Suddenly she felt the slight pressure of a hand of her shoulder as her feet touched the ground once more. “You’re on the other side, Hermione. The trap can’t hurt you any more,” Jon’s calm voice echoed in her ear. She must’ve been on the other side of the trap by now.

“I’m sorry,” She snuggled her arms tightly around her chest, desperately trying to fight the tears that were about to escape her eyes. Godric this was so unprofessional.

“It’s okay Hermione, It’s not your fault,” He gave her a knowing expression “Take all the time you need to gather yourself. There are no more traps, and we’re just outside the meeting room entrance.”

Hermione took a minute to contain herself. She was sure if she opened her eyes, she would fall right into panic all over again.

Slowly cracking her eyes open, she saw Jon patiently waiting for her.

“All better?” He asked,

“The best we can get at this moment,” She honestly answered.

“You can just go home, and I can send you an owl with what Henry is currently waffling on about,” the side of his mouth quirking upwards. 

“No, no, it’s part of the job. I should be there. I’m fine.” She took another deep breath, “I’m okay,” she started walking towards the exit of the passageway. Jon swiftly followed her, not entirely convinced. 

As she opened the door to the meeting room, Henry abruptly paused his speech, every pair of eyes in the room turned around to look at her.

“Good of the medical staff to join our meeting,” Henry said.

“I’m sorry, I received the message late coach,” Jon said from behind her.

“It’s fine,” Henry waved his hand to dismiss the lengthy apology that was undoubtedly about to come out of Jon’s mouth. “We didn’t reach the part that's important for you anyway, please just take a seat.” 

Hermione spotted the empty seat Ginny held open for her. She mouthed a quick thanks to Jon as she moved towards the redhead.

“Hi,” She whispered to her best friend.

“Are you okay?” Ginny asked her, looking concerned. The traces of her episode were apparently still evident on her face.

“Yeah, don't worry Gin, Jon’s a healer. He knew what to do to get me through my episode,” She hushed.

Ginny answered by placing a comforting hand on her thigh, accompanied by a reassuring squeeze as they returned their focus to Coach Hoogh in front of them. 

“Tomorrow morning, your family will be allowed on the grounds. Due to recent media attention, we’ve moved the family farewells to the relative security of the Mills Park Estate.” Henry continued his speech.

Oh damn, saying goodbye to the families. This little bit of information slipped her mind from the moment Henry mentioned it at the start of her first day of work. She must’ve just discarded it immediately because it didn’t mean much to her. She had no family to say goodbye to. Her parents were still living in Brisbane without any memory of her. Hermione hadn’t been able to recover their minds, even with her extensive knowledge within the healing field. It was her main drive to go into healing. When modern healing wouldn’t work for her parents, she went into researching ancient methods in the hopes of finding some kind of holy grail. 

Her current job was the first she did entirely for herself, even though she still had some ulterior motives.

Ginny felt her tense and gave her thigh another reassuring squeeze.

“Ron and Harry will be there just as much for you as they are for me,” Ginny whispered. It wasn’t true, especially on Harry’s part, and they both knew it, but the sentiment was still there, and Hermione appreciated it.

“After the goodbyes, we’ll collectively floo to the Department of Magical Games and Sports. From there, we’ll go to the international departures terminal in the floo-hall. The Aurors have sectioned off a part of the terminal for us. However, it’s still a public space, and reporters will likely be around, so please keep that in mind. We wouldn’t want any more salacious page-six articles.”

“Everyone, steer clear of Granger,” Malfoy called out, “Miles wasn’t even within 6 feet of her, and they already had an ‘affair’” He held up his hands to create the theatrical air quotes around the last word.

“Who knows what Skeeter would write if you floo right after her,” he smirked, looking directly at Hermione. 

“Really, Draco, I thought you told us you ‘turned a new leave’,” Surprisingly, Dunbar somewhat came to her defence.

“Dunbar, what happened to house loyalty? Slytherins sticking up for Slytherins?” Malfoy sneered.

Fay Dunbar was about to answer him. However, Coach Hoogh smoothly cut in. “That’s enough. We need to get rid of Hogwarts house rivalry and all that nonsense. We all share one goal here, and one goal only. Winning that world cup. No more club mate loyalty, no more Hogwarts house loyalty. Your only loyalty is to this team and this country, do I make myself clear?” 

“Crystal,” Malfoy answered curtly.

“It’s not only Malfoy I’m talking to, this goes for all of you. We are one team,” Henry emphasised on the word one. He looked around the room catching the eye of all the players. 

“I’m going to set up a meeting with the senior staff and Davies to find a way to become one unit. For now, I want you to go home and relax. It’s going to be a busy couple of months. Be here at nine in the morning. The meeting is done, go home, you're dismissed.” 

All players quickly stood and moved out of the meeting room. They were only allowed to leave the premises on weekends; a lot of them couldn’t wait to spend some extra time with their loved ones in the comforts of their homes. However, Hermione noticed Ginny firmly sitting on her chair making no indication to leave. 

“Do you want to head over to Grimmauld Place with me for a cup of tea before you go home and pack?” Ginny asked quietly.

“I don't know Ginny. I need to pack! We’re going away for a long time. I don’t know the weather in Argentina from now till the start of November.” Hermione started to answer frantically.

“Hermione, breathe. You’ve just had a near panic attack; you need some R & R, and I bet Argentina has plenty of clothing shops. You were always brilliant at Transfiguration, you could replicate anything you wanted,” she wiggled her eyebrows. “You are coming with me, and we are going to Grimmauld Place to have some tea.” Ginny’s voice could sound precisely like Mrs Weasley if she wanted to.

Hermione was about to protest some more, but Ginny was pulling her hands up. “It wasn’t a question, and if it was, I’m not taking no for an answer.” She stood from her chair, dragging Hermione behind her. “Come now.” 

Grimmauld Place was desolate when they stepped out of the fireplace. Either Ginny’s earlier arrival home hadn’t been planned, or she hadn’t bothered to ask Harry to take time off of work to greet her.

“Earl Grey?” Ginny asked as she rushed straight to the kitchen.

“Ginny, we’ve known each other for how many years now? A decade? You know my tea preference,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“What are you avoiding? Me asking you why your loving boyfriend isn’t here waiting for you, to spend some quality time twenty-four hours before you’re off to the other side of the globe?” Hermione rushed into the kitchen behind Ginny.

“So, Earl Grey it is?” She said, averting her eyes. She was standing over a steamy pot of hot water, the tea bag dangling in the steam.

“Just answer the damn question, Gin!” Hermione slammed her hands on the kitchen table. She was getting aggravated with Ginny’s constant avoidance of answering questions about her personal life. “Why’s Harry not here,” 

“It’s nothing big,” Ginny started, still evading Hermione's glares. “He’s incredibly busy with work. He’s running point on a big case for the first time, and he really doesn’t want to disappoint his boss.” 

“Okay, fair enough,” Hermione wasn't wholly convinced. She didn’t understand why it took so long for Ginny to fess up to something that small. Or maybe it wasn't something small. Hermione worried her lips at that thought. 

“So, tea?” Ginny tried to change the subject as the pot of tea steamed in front of her.

“Yes, please,” Hermione answered.

“How does this kind of tournament work anyway?” Hermione asked as Ginny put the steaming cup of tea in front of her.

“To be totally honest, I don’t have a clue.” Ginny sighed honestly, “Our normal campaigns aren’t as extensive as a world cup campaign. And we didn’t attend the last World Cup because of well, the war. Avery is the only one in the squad that has been to a World Cup before, and according to Coach, the logistics of 1994 were a bit different for the squad because England hosted the World Cup.” Ginny blew gently on her tea to cool it down. 

“So, it’s going to be new to all of us,” Hermione cocked her neck to the side. 

“Pretty much,” Ginny nodded “and I only hear good things about you from the players under your care.” Ginny smiled brightly praising her.

“Really?” Hermione scoffed, “even Pucey and Malfoy?” Hermione arched an eyebrow in astonishment.

“Well, Pucey is a bit bummed you won’t budge” she shrugged “honestly, I’m not that close to the former snakes in the squad,” Ginny answered. “Malfoy is just happy his shoulder is holding up better than before, and he can actually compete on a decent level, he hasn’t said anything specific about you, though. Miles keeps poking fun at him about the extra time spends in your treatment room, but he just goes all Malfoy, gets broody and goes on with what he was meant to be doing.”

“Back in Hogwarts he was easy to read, he was just this prejudiced prat walking around as if he owns the place. But now... honestly, I don’t know which version of him walks into my treatment room. Every time his medical file smashes me into the face, I have to brace myself.” Hermione sighed while massaging her temples.

The two friends continued talking about the last week and which tourist attractions they were planning to visit on their time off in Argentina. Time passed quickly, soon the clock chimed six and the noise of an arrival through the fireplace caught their attention. Not long after, an exhausted-looking Harry slumped into the kitchen.

His head lifted almost in shock as he spotted the two women sitting around his kitchen table looking back at him. 

“Ginny!” He exclaimed, “You’re home early, I didn’t expect you back until 7.30,” 

“Hi, Harry,” Hermione waved to greet her long time best friend, “Good to see you, too,”

“Oh, yeah. Hi Hermione, how’s the new job?” He turned and finally looked at her as he sat down at the other end of the kitchen table.

“It’s good, a bit exhausting, but nothing as bad as what you seem to be going through, right now,” Hermione smiled sympathetically at him. “Tea?” She handed him a cup of tea before hearing his answer.

“That sounds great,” Harry said as he accepted the cup of tea, “Robards gave me a murder case, it’s good for my career don’t get me wrong. But this little boy is orphaned as a result and I just can’t get any shut-eye before I catch this bastard.”

“Where’s the kid now?” Hermione asked, knowing Harry wouldn’t let this poor boy be left in a similar situation he had been in with the Dursleys.

“His godparents, they’ve already got a couple of kids, but it’s a good environment. I double-checked.” Harry answered, seemingly to reassure himself than her per se.

“I’m good too, you know?’ Ginny cut in, clearly annoyed at being left out. “And very exhausted from double training sessions all week.” she huffed.

“I’m sorry, Gin,” Harry apologised, “I just haven’t seen Hermione since last weekend.” 

“You haven’t seen me since Monday morning either,” Ginny raised her voice, “And I’m your bloody girlfriend who is about to leave for bloody Argentina tomorrow for four long months, for Godric’s sake,” She was practically yelling at this point. 

“Okay, I’m so sorry to interrupt, but I think this is my cue to head home and pack,” Hermione said as she awkwardly stood from her chair and moved towards the kitchen door. Ginny had a great temper, and she didn't want to be near it at this moment. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” she said over her shoulder as she hurried towards the fireplace.

* * *

Hermione had spent the entire evening packing her bags, changing her mind about what to pack a dozen times, she unpacked and packed again. In the end, she only got a couple of hours of sleep. Making her dread the goodbyes even more. She’d give everything for a few more hours of sleep. There was no one there to explicitly say goodbye to her anyway. These hours were just going to be a painful reminder that she didn’t have her parents in her life any more.

With lead in her shoes and her bags levitated behind her, she stepped through the fireplace. She was not ready to face what was going to happen in the next couple of hours but she would go through it with her head held high.

“Damn Hermione, packed your entire apartment in there?,” Jon mocked friendly from his office, “you got a good night of sleep?”

“Far from it,” Hermione yawned, “I didn’t know what to pack for Argentina,”

“I can see that,” Jon laughed, “it looks like you could move to Buenos Aires,”

“You never know, I might find I have no reason to come back,” She winked back at him.

“Family day used to be a bitch,” Jon acknowledged. “My parents died at the end of the first war. Family day was always the worst day in camp, and I used to see that look on my face when I looked in the mirror before my teammates’ family arrived.”

“Does it ever go away? The feeling?” Hermione asked.

“No,” Jon shook his head with a sad expression on his face, “I still feel it today. It does get better, though. It’s not half as bad as it was the first time around.” He smiled at her reassuringly.

“So I leave my luggage here, and we go to the front garden?” She asked.

“Yes, just give me a moment, and I’ll join you, it can be quite overwhelming for a first-timer.”

It was indeed quite overwhelming to walk into. The entire front garden had been transformed, the flowerbeds had been replaced with a tent in which a massive breakfast buffet was housed. A large group of people was standing inside. Many familiar faces, but there were also a lot of faces Hermione couldn’t place. She stood there for a couple of moments just taking in the scene before her. Her anxiety of the situation was being calmed by the soft sounds of raindrops hitting the canvas of the tent. It had been dry for several weeks, and it seemed appropriate for there to be rain on her last day in England.

“Mummy?” A voice to her left broke through her haze, “wasn’t that the lady you had lunch with?”

“Yes, Ollie, you’ve remembered that so well.” She heard Cho answer her oldest son questions.

“Can we say hi, Mummy?” Ollie asked, and as Hermione looked over, she saw the little boy already trying to bolt towards her. She caught Cho’s gaze and gave her a slight nod, telling her it was okay for her sons to come over.

“If you behave, you can say hi. Do not make a scene Oll we’re here to support Daddy,” Cho reminded her son.

“Your hair is curly, just like mine,” Ollie said as he reached her.

“You’ve got beautiful curly hair, Ollie, just like your little brother,” Hermione ruffled the dark curly hair of the small boy in front of her.

“How was the photoshoot?” Cho asked her, “The picture looked great in the official statement, but that says nothing about the actual shoot,”

“It was a mess,” Hermione confessed, “snitches flying around, I think they even lost control of a bludger at one point. But yes, the picture and the statement were good,”

“Miles might’ve mentioned something like that,” Cho laughed.

“What did I say?” Her husband had laid his arm around her shoulder and gave her a quick kiss to her temple, “Hello, love,” 

“Daddy!” Both Ollie and Max screamed on the top of their lungs as they launched themselves at his legs.

“Hello boys,” Bletchley said as he crouched down to envelop both his sons in a big hug before standing up with both of them in his arms.

“Good Morning, Granger, did you have a good night rest?” He said as his eyes finally landed on her.

“It was fine,” She simply answered. “Oh look, the Weasleys! I'll go and say hi to them. It was good seeing you again, Cho,” smiling as she turned around.

“What did I tell you?” Hermione heard Bletchley ask Cho as she walked away.

The Weasleys attended events in large numbers, Hermione expected Molly and Arthur to see off their children, and Ron wanting to see HQ from close up wasn’t a surprise at all. However, Percy’s appearance today was what baffled Hermione. It seems that he had taken hours off work to attend, he usually worked Saturdays just like any other workaholic.

“Hermione, dear, it’s so good to see you,” Mrs Weasley strutted towards her and enveloped her in a warm motherly hug, “You are just as much a daughter to us as Ginny is,” she whispered in her ear before she let her go.

Hermione had to fight back a few tears as she thanked Molly for her words. 

Looking around, there was one notable omission from the Weasley family.

“Where’s Harry?” Hermione furrowed her eyebrows.

“He’s busy with the case. He told me he’d be here. I guess he’s late,” Ginny simply stated, the anger from the argument Hermione had walked out of last night was still clearly visible in her fiery eyes.

“Okay,” Hermione tried to defuse the tension by changing the topic “So how’s the shop, Ron?” 

“The funny figurines of Ginny and George are selling like hot cakes,” Ron said.

“Oh for Godric’s sake, George! you really made that silly idea you had after a 2-hour S&C session into a joke shop item?” Ginny asked, thoroughly unimpressed.

“What did you expect, Gin? I need to look after my future, and it was a cracking business idea,” George defended himself.

“It seems yesterdays speech from Coach hasn't gotten through their thick skulls, did it?” George gestured towards the group of Slytherins clustered near the Grand House outer wall.

“We’re also grouped with an awful lot of Gryffindors,” Ginny noted.

“Yeah well, we’re family they’re just…” George seemed to take time to search for the best word the describe what he saw, “...Slytherin’s,” 

Hermione took a good look at the group of the Slytherin squad members with their close friends and family. She was slightly shocked to see the long platinum blonde locks of Lucius Malfoy trying to stay in the background.

“Since when is Lucius Malfoy out?” She asked, it must’ve happened recently because she had not caught it in the papers.

“He’s been out on parole, a couple of days I presume,” Mr Weasley said, “I think Robards mentioned something about a special permit for him to leave the Manor to attend this farewell,” 

“Well, that’s nice of the Auror office to do,” Hermione teased.

“Draco is the darling of the Bath Bombers, and they’ve got an awful lot of pull in the ministry,” Arthur explained.

Hermione's mind started to wander, phasing the loud chattering emitting from Weasleys. She couldn’t help but be fascinated at what was going on with the Slytherin group. Narcissa Malfoy seemed to act as if Malfoy was 11 again bidding him farewell as he boarded the Hogwarts Express in his first year. Next to Narcissa stood Pansy and Theodore Nott. They were supposedly in post-marital bliss according to page six. Their eyes, however, were more occupied with scanning the crowd than looking at each other. Then you had Blaise Zabini, standing with his arms crossed around his chest. He had always been an enigma to Hermione. He seemed to be in a suspiciously private conversation with Pucey and given both men's sordid history that could only mean trouble.

Suddenly a very stressed Harry rushed into the tent. 

“Ginny, love, I’m so sorry I’m late!” Harry abruptly stopped in front of Ginny out of breath and held a stitch on the side of his stomach. “Boot caught a break in the case, and I just had to follow up on it,” he said before he pulled his girlfriend into a tight hug. He seemed to whisper an additional apology into her ear before giving her a quick peck on the lips.

“Could I please have all your attention, please?” Coach Hoogh announced from one end of the tent, all of a sudden, he was standing on a slight elevation. “I would like to thank all the friends and family that came to bid their goodbyes and well wishes to our amazing squad and staff members. All the things we achieve could simply not happen without the full support of the home front. Sadly we are almost at the end of this event, and I would like to ask you to say your proper goodbyes and take your leave so the squad and staff members won’t have to rush to get to the departures terminals at the ministry. I hope to see you all supporting the team during the World Cup, and again I think I speak for the entire team when I say we couldn’t thank you enough for your continued support for your loved ones.”

“Well, this is it.” Mrs Weasley said, tears clearly apparent in her eyes. “You’re off,”

“Mum,” George said, “it’s only a couple of months, and you can visit Argentina once the World Cup starts. Please don’t be so dramatic,” He rolled his eyes while tugging her for a tight hug. 

“I can’t help it. My babies are going all the way around the world,” 

As the Weasley family had their teary farewells, Hermione’s eyes scanned the room. Hermione's eyes scanned the room and fell upon Jon holding a boy on his arms, and a small girl hugging his feet. A woman stood beside him, presumably his wife, engulfing them in a big group hug. Hermione smiled at herself when she remembered Jon telling her that there was a point in his life where he couldn't pick up his kids. When they released each other from their hug, the woman placed a firm kiss on Jon's cheek, and that was when he caught Hermione's eyes. As their eyes locked across the crowd, he smiled sadly at her. Out of everyone here, he precisely understood what Hermione has been feeling. That sense of loneliness and out of place. She smiled back at him and nodded her head in acknowledgement. 

Her eyes moved on to scan the rest of the tent before they landed on the group of Slytherin’s near the back once again. Narcissa Malfoy had momentarily let go of her son. He was currently enveloped in quite an intimate looking hug by a tall blonde girl Hermione had seen hanging around the group when she had first observed them, and she had seemed quite friendly with all the Bath players. This hug, however, somehow seemed a bit more than friendly. That gave Hermione’s mind another spin. There was something about Malfoy she just couldn’t figure out, one moment he was the same prat she had shared double potions with for six years, and the next he was friendly towards Hermione and borderline flirting. It was an utter headfuck, and it kept drawing her in. 

She felt a couple of arms pulling her in a hug. Mrs Weasley’s voice shook her out of her trance. “Goodbye, Hermione,” Mrs Weasley finally let her escape the tight embrace, “good luck and take care of my babies. I’ll see you all in a couple of months.”

“Goodbye, Mrs Weasley, I’ll do my best,” She smiled back at her while instinctively trying to locate Harry. 

Harry was missing again.

She could make out the Weasleys figures from afar as they exited the tent towards the Old Guard House. Apparently, he had rushed off towards the Auror office as soon as he could.

“Hermione, come on, let’s go!” She heard Ginny yell from nearby while standing next to Hayley. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you thought of the chapter. Why was Percy at the Farewells? And all the other people of course.


	7. Safe Travels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so the chapter is a bit shorter because I ran into a couple of elbows during practice on Monday and spent some days with limited computer time/think time due to a slight concussion. My amazing beta Kiwi05622 has also massively helped with reshaping my thoughts into a more cohesive piece this week. As always she has also created the chapter moodboard.

After the squad and staff got back into the Mills Park Grand House, they made their way to the back corridor where they found Coach Hoogh standing before the entrance of the two locker rooms. On the left was the locker room designated for the women in the squad and towards the right was the locker room for the men.

“Okay, get into the locker rooms, you'll find clothes set out for you already and I’ll see you all in the meeting room for the final details,” Henry said. The squad members quickly moved into their assigned locker rooms.

Hermione, Murray and a couple more staff members stood awkwardly in the corridor, unsure of what they were meant to do. Henry seemed to have spotted his mistake and added. “Minor staff members can also find their clothes in the locker rooms.” Before he turned around and headed to his office.

Hermione walked into the women’s locker room and her mouth fell open as she took a good look around, taking in the luxurious interior. 

“Your mouth might catch flies, Hermione,” Ginny laughed.

“I’m sorry, I actually haven’t been in here before. Is this where all the Malfoy donations over the years have gone through.”

“Pretty much, they like to treat us.” Avery Hawkworth winked. “And I suppose a couple of decades back they decided to give us ladies the same perks as the lads have.”

The walls were covered with yaw wood panels and there were seats for all the female players. She noticed a golden plaque with their name, position and amount of England caps noted on the small cabinets above their seats. The benches were covered with plush maroon cushions. At the end of the row next to Ginny’s seat, was a plaque assigned for her.

_ Hermione Granger _

_ Assistant Healer _

“Wow, they even got me one,” Hermione said softly, the astonishment clear in her voice.

“Of course Coach did, he really likes you,” Ginny answered, “I think it’s an attempt to persuade you to sign on for a long term contract,” 

“And so do all of us,” Dawn Whitey pitched in from the other side of the locker room, she stood there shamelessly in her underwear, showing off her strong toned body, not minding all the scars plastered all over her skin. Hermione couldn’t imagine being so confident to do that “I’m quite eager to see you perform that magic you’ve done on Malfoy’s shoulder on my lower back.”

“You’ve got chronic lower back pain?” Hermione asked surprised, she had never seen the Chiefs beater in the treatment room area nor heard Jon talk about her case, making her think the treatments Whitey underwent weren’t for such a serious chronic injury.

“It’s not that serious, just more than a decade of wear and tear,” Whitey waved her hand disparagingly. “It’s nothing I can’t handle with a couple of spells. Jon taught me how to do them myself, so I don’t have to be in the treatment room before every practice.” She dismissed the consult Hermione was undoubtedly going to give her, “It’s just we’ve all seen the improvements Malfoy has made already, and it just made me wonder if your methods could also work for my back,” 

“I couldn’t say without examining your back first. I could have a look at it in the hotel once we arrive or you could sign into my schedule for the first training day?” Hermione suggested.

”Yeah, I’ll do that, I’ll be there first thing,” Whitey smiled, “Thanks Granger,”

All the girls had started chatting amongst themselves while changing into the clothes that were picked out for them and the noise in the room started taking over.

”is it always that loud?” Hermione asked Ginny beside her.

”Oh you haven't seen the boys on the loose.” Ginny laughed, ”If you think this is bad, you should take a look at the other locker room.”

”Gin are you sure it isn't  _ you _ that wants to take a peek in the other locker room, ” Hermione laughed, nudging her friend with her elbow.

Ginny didn't answer but the slight rush of blood that coloured her cheeks and the sudden rush to finish changing her clothes was enough for Hermione to know what the redhead's answer would've been.

Hermione waited for all the girls to finish getting dressed and head out to the meeting room before she started removing her clothes.

“Do you want me to wait for you?” Ginny asked softly as she put on her shoes and stood from her seat, “I could also wait outside,” 

Ginny knew Hermione was self-conscious of her scars, and she’d rather just get dressed on her own.

“No, Gin, I’m fine, I’ll quickly get dressed by myself and I’ll be right behind you,” Hermione reassuringly smiled up at her best friend, “now go, I don’t want you to be late,” 

“Weasley,” Tamsin Applebee’s head appeared in the doorframe, “Oh Granger you’re still in here too. Are you guys coming?”

“Tams, I’ll be there, one sec,” Ginny answered her teammate.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” She asked as she turned around to look at her best friend once again.

“Yes, I am. I’m not too fond of the looks and the questions. I promise, it’s nothing more,” Hermione said, “Go, go, I’ll see you in the meeting room,” 

After Ginny and Tamsin Applebee had walked out of earshot, Hermione started undressing. As she lifted her top, the nasty  _ mudblood _ scar that reminded her of blood-covered marble floors. She momentarily relived the horrid memory. Images of those marble floors flashed before her eyes. The skin on her ribs was marbled by a large purple scar that reminded her of the battle at the department of mysteries back in fifth year. Her body was like a cruel treasure map of her worst memories. Luckily the dress the Union had put out for her would cover all her mangled skin. It was a loose white blouse, paired with a fitted black pencil skirt. She quickly dressed and rushed out of the locker room. In her hurry, she hadn’t looked around, as she collided with a warm hard mass.

“Damn it, Granger,” She heard Malfoys voice from above her. “Don’t you ever use those big brown eyes of yours?”

“Sorry, I was late and had to rush to dress,” She explained as she stepped away from him and smoothed out the wrinkles in her blouse that were probably nonexistent.

“Glamour doesn’t work?” Malfoy seemed to have guessed her predicament straight away. As he started walking down the corridor towards the meeting rooms, gesturing for her to follow.

“Cursed scars barely hold a glamour for a minute,” Hermione explained softly as she tried to catch up with his long strides.

“Oh, tell me about it. Before the cover-up, no amount of glamour charm would hold. When I found out tattoo ink helped the magic stick to it better, I sent my artist a massive tip,” He laughed.

“So why are you late?” Hermione asked curiously.

“I forgot Coach wanted us to change.” Malfoy shrugged, “So I forgot to do the glamour this morning. Plus, I took some time to tweak the outfit a bit,” He smirked his famous smirk.

“You shouldn’t have to hide it you know,” Hermione said as she stole a glimpse of his outfit, she hadn’t seen any of the other male squad or staff in their outfits yet, but Malfoys suit already looked far more luxurious than her pencil skirt.

“If I shouldn’t have to hide my tattoo and the cursed scars beneath it, a mark I chose to put on myself, under duress but still. You shouldn’t have to hide the scars evil people have given you,” He honestly said.

“It’s not that,” Hermione took a deep breath, “It’s just they remind me of those memories, you know,” She didn’t know why, but it felt safe to mention it to Malfoy. He had been there after all, in the room with the blood-covered marbled floors. Where others often had questions about what had happened that day, even her clothes friends. He didn’t need to ask, he had seen it all.

“More than you could ever understand,” He murmured as he rubbed a tiny scar on his left hand.

Before Hermione could ask what he meant by that, they had reached the meeting room door and Malfoy had already slipped in and dragged her behind him.

“If you don’t want Coach to see you’re late, you need to dial down the Gryffindor and sneak in,” He said softly but firmly as he dragged her to a chair right at the back of the room.

“Uhm, thanks,” Hermione said as she sat down and looked at the front of the meeting room.

She couldn’t focus on the words coming out of Henry’s mouth. The sounds became muffled in her ears. Her mind wandered to her recent interactions with the blonde sitting next to her. It was out of her character to open up about the demons of her past to anyone, let alone Draco Malfoy of all people. Yet, somehow, she found herself talking about it naturally, as if they had been friends for a long time. It was easier for her to open up to him than to her close friends. The instant she began speaking, she thought he would have ridiculed her as he had back in the day or asked the invasive questions her good-intentioned friends often bombarded her with. Surprisingly, he had done quite the opposite, he had tried to make her feel better about it all, which was odd. Hermione didn’t know what to think about that, and she didn’t like not understanding something or someone.

The shifting of chairs snapped Hermione back from her reverie.

“What’s going on?” She asked George as he walked past.

“Good morning to you too, ‘Mione,” George laughed, “Get up, we’re heading to the ministry now.” 

Hermione rushed to her feet and fell into step with George.

“What did Henry say?” She asked, feeling slightly abashed at not paying attention.

“Oh only one week in and you’re on a first-name basis?” George wiggled his brows, “Good on you. Well,  _ Henry _ just told us a whole lot of mumbo jumbo and then told us we’d head to the ministry now to Floo to Argentina.” 

George was not and would never be a good source for important information, and he went through life only knowing the bare necessities. Hermione, on the other hand, prided herself on understanding the most she could before she dove into something.

On her way to the guardhouse, she moved around the group to gather more information. She found out that they’d have an Auror escort in the ministry and would Floo with them from the Argentine Ministry to their hotel in a Hacienda near an all magical town on the Pampas. It would allow the squad enough room to fly around and train freely, having only the need to obscure themselves from the media and scouts from the other countries.

Once they stepped out of the Floo in the Department of Magical Sports and Games it was utter mayhem. The ministry was obviously not built for such a large group of people travelling through it at the same time. Not to mention all the reporters wandering around trying to get pictures and comment, and the Aurors trying to hold them off.

“Miss Granger,” A voice cut through the chaos as they walked through the ministry’s cramped corridors, “What are you expecting for the upcoming campaign?” This was not the kind of question Hermione thought she would get shouted at her. “I’m Emily Scarborough from  _ Quaffle Weekly, _ and I’d love to have a quote from you.” 

Hermione hung back, she had heard good things from Jon about the weekly Quidditch magazine and the reporter had nicely asked her a question. And she wasn’t Hermione Granger if she wasn’t a tiny bit eager to answer a question.

“Uhm, as everyone might be aware, I was not exactly well immersed in the world of Quidditch until I started this job. However, I’m very excited to see this group of talented young players perform at the World Cup and do my best in supporting them with all the medical knowledge I have,” She enthusiastically answered the reporter.

“And Headmistress McGonagall has put out a statement that you’re responsible for Seeker Dakota’s education while you’re away?” Scarborough went on.

“That’s correct. We've only just started, but I’m positive the Quidditch staff and I can make sure Haley is fully prepared for the World Cup but will also be on schedule with the Hogwarts curriculum once we’ve returned to England after the conclusion of the campaign.” Hermione answered the question, “I’m sorry Miss Scarborough, I should really catch up to the rest now. Have a good day.” Hermione rushed towards Jon and Henry who were on the tail of the group of Quidditch players moving through the corridors towards the international departures hall.

“What did she want?” Jon asked as she caught up to them.

“A quote from the famous Golden Girl I suppose,” Hermione said sarcastically.

“You kept it PR friendly?” Henry pitched in.

“Of course I did, Shacklebolt gave us days worth of PR training after the battle of Hogwarts,” Hermione explained.

“Wise choice to pick the Golden Girl for the short notice job, Henry.” Jon nudged Henry. 

“There’s a reason I’m the head coach, Jon.” He countered as they reached the international departures hall.

“Alright everyone, gather around,” Harry said as he stood before the fireplaces. “I will step through first. I’ve already had contact with my Argentine counterpart. But to be sure, I’ll be there waiting for you.” Hermione could see several Slyterin’s rolling their eyes. “So, if you’d please follow me, Auror Boot will follow us to close off the group.” He said as he got ready to step through the fireplace.

As Hermione followed the bulky stature of Ritchie Coote through the fireplace, she was amazed by the interior of the Argentine Ministry that peaked around the broad back of the veteran Beater. Unlike the British Ministry, the Argentine Ministry seemed to have a modern interior. All clean black, greys and white with large windows overlooking the contrasting colonial architecture of Plaza de Mayo. 

Boot stepped through the fireplace a few moments later and gave Harry the a-okay. The other Auror cleared his throat.

“Uhm, okay, people, I’d like you to meet Auror Rodriguez.” He gestured to the olive-skinned man standing next to him. “He’s going to help us with the protective detail around you guys from the Argentine ministry side. Boot and I still have duties to perform back home during the training camp stage of the campaign. Rodriguez here would be able to assist you on shorter notice, without all the hassle of international travel.”

“Buenos Dias,” Rodriguez stated, “I’m happy to welcome you here in our beautiful country. I’m here to make your stay as pleasurable and safe as possible” His English was laced with a thick Latin accent. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from settling into your accommodation. Therefore, if you’d follow me, por favor.” 

“Much more to the point than Potter, I like it,” Malfoy muttered. As the group started to follow Rodriguez through a maze of corridors most likely leading to yet another fireplace.

The Hacienda overlooked the vast beautiful planes of the Pampas. And unlike the Ministry, this was classic Spanish Colonial architecture. They had been greeted by the charming hostess of the Hacienda, Señora Hernández. She was now leading them through the long corridor where their rooms were located. On the doors of each room, a golden plaque stood stark in contrast with the aged wooden door with the names of each player that would stay in the room. It appeared that two players would be sharing their space together. Every player rushed to locate their room, seemingly wanting to unpack and unwind until there were only a few members of staff left behind. 

“Miss Hermione Granger, your room is on the left.” Señora Hernández called. Hermione couldn’t hide her surprise; while all the players were roomed with two in a room, she was getting her very own private room. She was secretly relieved that she wouldn't be sharing her chambers with anyone. Alone time was a must for her to be able to decompress after a long day at work.

Henry seemed to have clocked on to her surprise. “You’re staff, it has a separate office too.” He simply explained before gesturing for her to enter her room. 

When she stepped over the threshold, she walked into something very akin to the Gryffindor common room. A low fire gently burned in the fireplace which instantly made the sitting room feel extremely cosy. A plush red couch stood in front of the fireplace. Her eyes travelled across the room, and she spotted the door that would undoubtedly lead to the bedroom. Heading towards the door, she caught sight of the desk in her peripheral vision. Not because the furniture itself was especially impressive; it was the Great Grey owl that stood proudly on the desk. Looking at her like she was the one that was terribly late.

“Seiron! When in Merlin's name did you get here? In Argentina?” She exclaimed.

The owl turned his head to shift her attention to the letter on his paw.

_ London, July 26th 2002 _

_ Hermione, _

_ I thought you could use a little reminder of home. I’m always here on the other side if you need to talk about something. Crookshanks is already being a bit more annoyed because I think he realizes you will not be here for his foreseeable future. But I will get him happy again I promise. _

_ I hope to hear from you soon, _

_ Love, _

_ Luna _

“You flew all the way across the world, big man?” Hermione cooed over her owl while stroking his pillowy feathers

In response, the owl stood up proudly and eyed her as if to ask for a treat.

“A treat yeah, of course, you deserve that, good boy.” Hermione praised him as she reached for her wand to get the treats from the bookshelves behind the desk.

After she had appeased her owl, she went off to explore her bedroom. The theme of the rest of her room matched the living area. The large trunk containing her luggage was set up next to the closet. She couldn’t be bothered to unpack her belongings as her exhaustion crept over her. At the centre of the room, a large king-size four-poster bed was located and looked too inviting to her. She swiftly conjured her pyjamas and snuggled in between the mountains of cushions and beneath the plush duvet. She felt like all the pillows totally encompassed her and almost swallowed her whole. It was nowhere near evening. However, the previous day and all the impressions of this day had her in dire need of a nap, and the comfortable bed just made it so much easier for her to drift off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've made it we're in Argentina, finally. Please tell me what you think of the chapter and what would happen next. Is Hermione going to get along with all the female members of the squad? Will Harry being over in Argentina from time to time on protective detail safe his relationship with Ginny or has that ship sailed? Just give me your thoughts, I love reading them!


	8. Enigma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always the beta credits go to Kiwi05622.  
> If you ever wonder what Hermione will do all the time in Argentina, that chapter is here for you.

The following morning when Hermione woke up, she was first unaware of her surroundings. The bed linen smelt unlike the ones in her London flat, the bedding felt different too. Then it clicked. She smiled when she realised she was in the beautiful country of Argentina. They had made it, and somehow the senior staff had given her a private room. 

As she was unpacking all her books and clothing, there was an insistent knock on the ornate door. 

“It’s open,” She yelled.

“Damn, Hermione. This suite is huge, the staff must love you,” She heard Ginny’s familiar voice from the living area of her private suite.

“Morning, Gin, did you have a good night of sleep?” Hermione asked as she walked into the living area.

“Oh yeah, once Haley finally stopped talking, it was grand. The beds are amazing,” Ginny said as she tried to suppress a yawn with great difficulty.

“I didn’t think of her as extremely talkative,” Hermione confessed.

“Oh, don’t you worry. She is very,  _ very _ talkative, just a bit too young for the big groups,” Ginny explained. “By the end of the campaign, she will probably be just as loud as the rest of us.” The redhead walked over to the plush couch and fell on it. “Damn, even your couch is amazing. You better be prepared, Hermione. I’m going to exploit this room like it’s my own.” She laughed heartily.

“Fine by me, I don’t know why they gave me such a big room in the first place, especially since you guys are all roomed up,” Hermione shrugged, she did feel a bit guilty having all this space while her best friend didn’t even have her own toilet.

“Don’t you dare feel sorry for me,” Ginny pressed on, having clocked on to the expression on Hermione’s face. “It’s quite normal for us to be roomed up, it typically helps with the team building.” She explained. “And we’ve got a massive recreation room and all that jazz just down the hall.” 

“So why are you here then?” Hermione asked bluntly.

“Well, to see my best friend, see your room and take you away to breakfast, of course.” Ginny stood up from the couch and promptly moved towards the door. “Are you coming?”

“Yeah, hang on, I need to get my stuff,” 

The communal dining room of the hacienda was already packed when Ginny and Hermione walked in. Taking in the large room, Hermione saw the staff and players already seated around several tables, It daunted her that and there was still a distinct separation of former Hogwarts houses. Her eye fell on George, sitting comfortably with the other Gryffindors around a table to their right. 

Ginny led Hermione over to the table where George, Haley, and Oliver Wood were sitting. 

“Good morning, sunshine,” George beamed at Hermione as she sat down.

“Good morning to you too, George!” She answered gleefully. “And Haley and Oliver, I hope you all slept well?” 

“Not everyone has a private room, Hermione,” Oliver Wood rolled his eyes, “and Bletchley snores like a bear, I don’t know how Cho can bear it, every single night.” 

Hermione carefully scanned the room and just as she was sitting with all the Gryffindors, all the other houses were also seated together at tables.

“Isn’t this like, against what Henry wants?” She asked, as she filled her plate with the toast and scrambled egg that stood in a breakfast arrangement in the middle of the table.

“What?” George feigned ignorance while obscuring his face behind his cup of coffee.

“The distinct grouping, George,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Honestly Hermione, why would I deliberately want to spoil my breakfast? I already see that damn aristocratic face when I wake up, I love to take a break when I’m eating at the least. Thank you very much,” George said harshly.

“Oh come off it, It can't be that bad?” Hermione asked while smearing butter on her toast.

“It’s Malfoy, what do you expect? He is always whining about every single thing that isn’t to his liking, everything is so beneath him.” George complained. “And my dear sister is lucky enough to get to room with the fun Seeker,” 

“Much appreciated,” Haley pitched in as she promptly raised her cup of tea to her lips. “However, he truly isn’t that bad when it’s just us in the private Seeker training with Murray,” She gallantly defended the other Seeker.

“He’s also nowhere near as bad as he was in school during the therapy sessions,” Hermione said, resulting in a shocked reaction from George, “He even asked me about the muggle parts of the innovative therapy I’m using on his crooked shoulder.” This left George completely baffled.

The rest of breakfast passed quickly as Hermione zoned out of all the tactical quidditch talk going on around her while she quietly ate her food and drank her tea.

“Granger?” Hermione snapped out of it to look in the face of Dawn Whitey. 

“Yes?” 

“Could you maybe have a look at my sore back quickly before training starts?” The short blonde girl politely asked.

“Of course, is there enough time before training starts?” Hermione reasonably asked, “Have you asked Coach to clear it?” 

“Yes, I cleared it with him, he just hopes it gets better,” Dawn nodded.

“Let me quickly finish my breakfast, and I’ll see you in my treatment room in ten minutes?” Hermione asked.

“Sure, I’ll see you there!” The blonde walked back to the table where Zacharias Smith and Tamsin Applebee were sitting.

Dawn’s consultation went great. There were some easy techniques to relieve the pressure on her lower back, and there was a significant possibility for the treatments to immensely help her and have her back pain-free while playing even before the World Cup kicked off.

After the conclusion of Dawn's appointment, the thorn in George’s eyes leisurely strutted into her treatment room.

“Charming place, Granger,” Malfoy drawled, “much better than your treatment room over in Somerset.” 

“I guess you prefer expensive looking interiors,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Shirt off, Malfoy,” She promptly ordered as he sat down on the treatment table, “we don’t have much time before the training starts.”

“It isn’t my fault you are so busy,” He countered quite childishly. He, however, did lift his shirt over his head.

“Oh, you like to have me all to yourself?” Hermione joked.

When Draco didn’t respond Hermione quickly exclaimed: “I’m just kidding!”. She hadn’t meant for it to come out as flirtatious, this was the last thing on Hermione's mind right now. 

The Bath Seeker stayed silent however and it turned into a considerable stretch of silence, turning significantly more awkward the longer it went on.

Malfoy coughed, “Uhm, just do your magic on my shoulder, will you?” Finally breaking the tense silence.

Hermione started her now well-known routine of prodding Malfoy’s shoulder muscles. Unlike other days, Malfoy didn’t fill the space with his witty sometimes slightly hurtful banter, or questions about what Hermione was doing to his shoulder. He just sat there silently, merely undergoing his treatment. She felt a slight urge to ask him if he was alright but squashed that feeling right down. 

“All done,” Hermione said as she softly slapped his shoulder to accentuate it.

Malfoy stood from the treatment table and walked towards the door. Hermione followed him closely. Earlier, Henry had earnestly pressed her to come to the training sessions, after she completed the pre-training checkups, to have a look at all the players to identify if she could improve injuries on other players as well.

“What are you doing, Granger?” Malfoy asked as he was about to close the door, but spotted her just on the other side with her book bag over her shoulder.

“I’m going to watch practise,” She simply stated.

“With your bookbag?” He countered, a confused look on his facial features.

“Well, I don’t know if Quidditch can hold my attention for so long. It never really has in the past, even if I’ve had a specific task linked to it,” Hermione answered as she followed him out of the Hacienda’s door towards the training pitches.'' Besides, I do have my medical kit in here too, why don't you mind you own bloody business” she added with a bite. 

“Have you ever watched a full Quidditch game?” Malfoy inquired, ignoring her rudeness. “Without any distractions?”

“I do typically have a book with me a lot of the time, ever since Hogwarts actually,” She sheepishly replied. “So you’re roomed with George?” She tried to change the subject.

“That git is already moaning about it, isn’t he?” Malfoy sneered.

“Well, yeah, I think he would rather have any other person in the squad in his room, even Pucey,” Hermione said apologetically.

“Well, the feeling is mutual, and I guess I just need to suck it up.” Malfoy said, “But I supposed it is Coach’s way of bringing the opposing sides of the previous war together to help with the squad unity. He can’t really make me room with Ginny or you, so I guess George is the closest thing to the Golden Trio, and I am.” He looked down towards his covered left forearm. “well, I was on the other side in the war.” 

Hermione’s heart thudded in her chest. Did Malfoy casually mention he would have preferred sharing a room with her? 

“If George is still as bad as he was in his Hogwarts years, I truly feel sorry for you,” Hermione stated. For a second, an honest surprise seemed to flash over Malfoy’s face. “He was a handful, I think I honestly plotted his murder numerous times while tripping over joke shop prototypes,” Hermione laughed. The ghost of a smile seemed to be visible over Malfoy’s face.

“Good luck with not falling asleep, Granger,” Malfoy said as they reached the stairs of the makeshift stands.

“Good luck with your training, Malfoy,” She said as she started climbing up the stairs, she turned around and added. “And watch that shoulder, please?” 

A smirk ghosted over his face, “Will do, Granger. Will do.”

As Hermione sat down in the stands, the training had already started. The players were making their rounds on the pitch, stretching their flying muscles and their position-specific muscles. Hermione examined the flying patterns of all the players. Imbalances in mobility were easy to spot by a healer with a trained eye. Dawn still didn’t twist her back to the fullest range when hitting the bludger. Malfoy almost exclusively resorted to his left arm when reaching for the snitch. Many other players also had slight restrictions in their range of motion. However, from her initial observations, Bletchley’s back didn’t seem to hinder him that much compared to some players Hermione knew weren’t in the stabilization group. 

She took notes on all the players she wanted to discuss with Jonathan and picked up her book. She had decided to bring her copies of fantasy novels to Argentina. She couldn’t help but want to consume herself in a completely different world once her work was over. Currently, she was once again immersing herself in the world of J.R.R. Tolkien’s  _ The Lord of the Rings. _

When the position-specific drills started, Hermione couldn’t help but stealthily watch the Seekers. Malfoy truly seemed to be in casual conversations with Haley and Coach Murray. He even playfully slapped the younger Seeker on the shoulder after she had outdone him in a fade. The man was indeed an enigma. 

Henry called her to the field. Her medical assistance was required on the pitch. As she rapidly rushed down the stairs and onto the pitch, she found Oliver Wood clutching his left hand painfully.

“What happened?” She stammered.

“Nothing much, argh,” Oliver grimaced, “Pucey threw a tricky spin, it hit my hand in a nasty way and I think I’ve dislocated a couple of fingers,” 

“Okay, that doesn’t seem too severe,” Hermione’s answer seemed to ease the pained expression on the face of her former housemate a bit. “Could you let your hand go? I can vanish your glove and fix it. I’ve also got some pain relief potions in my bookbag.”

Oliver hesitantly let his left hand go and placed it carefully in her hand. Hermione vanished his glove. The sight of his fingers so mangled made Oliver look away. “Damn that looks, bad.”

“It’s an easy fix, really. Don’t worry,” Hermione reassured him, “You can likely be out again after the lunch break.”

“I need to sit out this session?” Oliver asked, astonished.

“It’s better for the healing process of the tendons,” Hermione explained adequately. “If you give it a couple of hours, it will be all healed up. If you go back to using your fingers straight after I do the necessary adjustment, it could take days maybe even weeks before it’s back to its normal mobility and pain levels.”

“Okay, okay let’s do it,” he said, clenching his teeth and looking away.

Hermione waved her wand over his hand and popped his fingers back into their sockets. She rummaged through her book bag to find the phial of pain potion.

“All good,” Hermione said, holding out the pain potion to him. “Don’t touch a ball or a broom. But I guess you could be on the ground to assist Bletchley.” 

“Just great, giving him even more reps,” Oliver groaned.

“I’m serious, Oliver! Don’t use that hand before Jon, or I give you the go-ahead.” Hermione pressed on.

“Yes, Ma'am,” Oliver stated as he turned around and walked towards the goalposts where Bletchley was countering almost all of the Chasers trick shots. Hermione herself turned around and walked up the stairs to the stands once again. 

The rest of the practice went by without any further injuries. After lunch, she was able to clear Oliver for further practise, he agreed with her that his hand felt as good as new and that it was probably a good idea to pull him from practise that morning.

Jon took the pitchside job for the afternoon training, giving Hermione the time to work out the observations she had made during the morning session and hypothesise which treatments could be beneficial for each player. 

Later that evening, Hermione decided to have dinner in her suite. She wanted to finish this parchment so she could hand it over to Jon in the morning. In her opinion, setting up the treatments for these players could be crucial for the success of the campaign and the durability of the players.

A gentle knock on her door promptly broke through her concentration. Hermione glanced over to her clock. It was half six. She was meant to have a tutoring session with Haley right about now. She had lost track of time.

“Come on in!” She called.

The door carefully opened, revealing Haley standing in the doorway. “Are you ready for the tutoring session?” The young Gryffindor asked.

“Absolutely, I’ll just need to clean my desk, come in!” Hermione said as she quickly tried to clear her desk. “We have Transfiguration on our schedule, right?” 

Haley nodded.

“Do you have your books? Have you been reading?” Hermione asked gesturing for the other girl to sit down in the plush chair across from her ornate desk.

“Of course I did, Ginny told me you were always prepared for class back in Hogwarts and would likely expect the same of me,” Haley laughed.

“I was, it means our tutoring sessions will go much smoother. I haven’t received all the sixth-year transfiguration tools from Headmistress McGonagall, but I guess we could change my teacup into a gerbil for now.” She said as she downed her cold tea in one go and put the cup in front of Haley. “Do you know the incantation?”

“ _ Calix Mutiato _ ,” Haley rapidly responded. 

“That’s correct, let’s try!” Hermione said, excited to finally have a student that actually bothered to be prepared.

The first time Haley cast the spell. The teacup didn’t completely transform into a gerbil, however, the cup grew some brown fur.

“Great first try!” Hermione enthusiastically encouraged Haley, “Try to really focus on the specific kind of animal you want the cup to transform into,” 

After a few more tries, the teacup successfully changed into a tiny gerbil which hurriedly rushed off the desk before Hermione enclosed him in a glowing cage on her desk.

“Go on, your hands are able to cross the bars,” Hermione started, “pick up the gerbil and describe to me what your observations are.” 

Hesitantly, Haley reached into the cage. The little gerbil scattered to the other barrier of the cage. 

“Hold your hand still Haley. The little furry man will be able to carefully explore his new surroundings in a little bit, just wait and you can pick up the gerbil and examine him.” Hermione smilingly reassured her. 

And sure enough, a few moments later the little gerbil started exploring the cage once more, also climbing on Haley’s outstretched hand.

“It’s really lightweight?” The golden-haired girl asked, looking up at Hermione slightly confused. Haley was obviously not quite sure of her independent observation.

“That’s correct,” Hermione exclaimed joyfully. “Would you know why the gerbil would be relatively light?” 

Haley was silent for a bit, running over the likely possibilities in her mind. “Uhm, I think it might be because it’s the same weight as the teacup?” 

“That’s correct!” Hermione said, “That was a great deduction. The specific molecules in the teacup can transform to a certain extent but not, for example, transform into precious elements such as Gold, Silver, or Platinum. That would typically exceed the boundaries set by Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration. However, I don’t expect you to understand the entire explanation instantly, it’s heavily based within muggle science, something even wizards with a mastery in Transfiguration don’t always know.”

“I’ve actually heard of those terms,” Haley said, truly confusing Hermione.

“What?”

“My brother has been moaning about his chemistry homework, every single holiday I went back home,” Haley explained.

“What? Your brother goes to a muggle school?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah, my parents are muggles and my older brother didn’t get the anomaly within the genes.” Haley casually explained.

“You are a muggle-born and the best Quidditch Player Hogwarts has seen in a century, and it’s not all Rita Skeeter talks about?” Hermione asked, truly astonished.

“Yeah, everyone knows. Is it unusual for Skeeter not to talk about it?” Haley asked, genuinely concerned.

“No, no, don’t worry. It’s only right it’s not linked to your name,” Hermione said, “It has been a terrible mess for me. Due to my association with Harry, I’m still connected to my Hogwarts media name. We’ve fought fiercely in the war for equality for every single person within the wizarding world. I’m just glad you’re seen for your extraordinary talents and not for your blood status.” 

The rest of the hour Hermione tutored Haley on the spell's precise wand movements, making sure her pupil performed the spell even better. When the clock struck half seven, Haley rose from her chair.

“What homework are you assigning me?” She asked as she gathered her books.

“I’d like you to write an essay about the components of the spell and what the differences are to other transfiguration spells.” Hermione explained, “Deadline is the next transfiguration tutoring session. If you have any questions about it, please don’t hesitate to come by and ask them.” 

“I will, Hermione. Thank you. Good night!” Haley said before she headed out of the door.

Hermione cleared her desk and slumped down on the couch. She needed to think over all the information she had gathered today. On the one hand, Haley was a muggle-born and Malfoy acted towards her like she was his equal. One the other, he sometimes acted like he didn’t like being in the same room as Hermione. While other times, she seemed to be able to share very personal stories and he seemed to reciprocate by sharing stuff that seemed to be close to his heart. The man was truly an enigma. 

She stood from the couch and thought about taking a long, warm shower before settling in bed with her book. Hermione resolved that deciphering Malfoy and his actions were not on her to-do list. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is up with Draco? And Haley is a muggleborn?  
> Give me your thoughts!


	9. Firewhiskey Confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things will get interesting in this chapter...  
> The chapter is dedicated to the lovely Kiwi in the hope she'll feel better soon!  
> Beta work by the awesome Tygermine.

The week passed by quickly. Her responsibilities truly became a routine in her second week on the job. Every morning she would get her set of squad members patched up and ready for training. Depending on the day she would take the morning or afternoon shift of being the on side Mediwitch, often patching up small injuries and steadily making her way through her book collection. It was a good way to get to know the players she had not yet seen in her treatment room.

She got both her regulars into a better physical condition and made some minor adjustments to the players she had spotted with hindrances in their range of motion in practice. Both Jon and Henry were impressed by her quick results. Jon even asked if he could sit in on a couple of sessions to check if he could implement some of her techniques into his own work. She had owled Luna to send over some of her muggle physiology books for Jon to have a look at.

The enigma that was Draco Malfoy, however, only seemed to grow with every session they had together. He could be interested in the methods or how she was improving his teammates in the morning and just be his old moody self a couple of hours later in the afternoon. At least his shoulder was improving  satisfactorily, so  there was a big chance he would not need all the extra sessions by the start of the championship. During their evening tutoring sessions, Haley could only praise him. At breakfast, George could only complain about his bedroom manners. It was all just very interesting, the seeker seemed to have different masks for different team members and somehow he didn’t know which mask to put on when he was around her.

Hermione even got a good look at the player Ginny admired so openly when Roger Davies strained his bicep during practice on her Thursday morning pitchside shift and needed an emergency fix-up. 

“Could you remove your top?” Hermione asked, “I need to get a good look at that upper arm and shoulder if you want to be out there for the afternoon session again.” 

Davies nodded and reluctantly pulled his quidditch jersey over his head with his uninjured arm. The pain from the movement was blatantly clear all over his face. When she could finally fully see his torso, Hermione had to confess, Ginny had a point. This man was the embodiment of a Greek god.

The spell on his bicep truly was an easy fix, and he was glad at how quick she got him back into fighting shape.

“I’ve only heard good things about you in the locker room, Miss Granger,” He smiled down at her as he started to redress himself with a bit more ease. “And I must say, all the praise is well-founded, you are a great healer.” Somehow it looked like this man didn’t know how attractive he was. Hermione wouldn’t mind for him to be part of her daily routine.

Hermione felt a rush of blood run-up to her cheeks. There was something about being praised that always made her feel a bit giddy, but when this specimen of a human praised her with that expression on his face, she did get a bit shy.

“You could’ve warned me he was that fit,” Hermione sighed as she crashed down on her bed after dinner that night.

“I thought I have already done that enough, I think I’ve mentioned it almost every time we’ve spoken,” Ginny laughed as she set herself on Hermione’s bed.“I even remember a full report on his body during lunch in London that one time,”

“It just seems to sound too good to be true until you see it with your actual eyes,” Hermione proposed.

“It does feel very unreal until you touch it,” Ginny laughed.

“Oh yeah the touch, those muscles were firm,” Hermione remembered, “But honestly all my players are well defined. Davies just seems to be something else.” 

“I know right,” Ginny grinned.

“You still have that boyfriend-who-lived, Gin,” Hermione reminded her.

“Yeah, about that,” Ginny sighed deeply, “is it weird I don’t miss him all that much?”

“It’s been less than a week since you’ve last seen him and your days are very busy, don’t worry Gin,” Hermione reassured her.

Ginny seemed to take those words and think them over in her mind.

“Do you think George has already killed Malfoy?” Hermione asked after a moment of silence. Turning around in her bed so she could hug her pillow.

“It was awfully quiet when I passed their room in the hallway.” Ginny stated, happy for the change in subject, “But I guess he could just be in hiding, either one of them.” 

“I really wonder how Henry is actually going to fix this divide on the inside,” Hermione started, “it feels like we send out a great image to the media but Godric, there’s still some serious tension behind closed doors.” 

She sighed.

Hermione didn’t have to wait long to know what Henry’s plan was. On Saturday morning coach Hoogh called for a team meeting and gave them all the Sunday off on the condition that they have a team bonding session that night.

So there they were. After dinner, they all got together on the plush couches of the recreation room. Anxiously waiting for the senior staff to enter and tell them what exactly they were going to do. 

Suddenly the door opened and Henry and Jamie walked in levitating a dozen bottles of firewhiskey in front of them.

“We thought you deserved a good wind down after your first week in training camp,” Jamie, the Seeker coach grinned. “We know it can be quite a stressful settling in a whole new environment.” 

“We thought we could get to know each other a bit better and break the ice with some fire whiskey,” Henry elaborated. “Liquor loosens tongues and we hope to get closer as a squad,”

“What about our resident minor?” Malfoy asked gesturing to his fellow seeker. Swiftly slipping into the big brother role he seemed to have when it came to Haley.

“Don’t worry, Dakota, we’ve got some butterbeer for you,” Henry grinned, obviously looking forward to the night as he sat down on the couch next to Jon who took over the conversation.

“We, as senior staff, thought it would be good to know about your life from before you all generally got to know each other. What were your hobbies before you turned 11? Before you went to Hogwarts?”

“I’ll start,” Bletchley said, “I grew up in the countryside and my childhood friends and I actually loved to go out and build the most unstable treehouses ever.” He caught Pucey’s eyes and they shared a mischievous grin that could only be shared between two people with the same memory. “And as true boys, we tried to enhance our accidental magic in those crappy treehouses.” 

There was a look of recognition among all the magic born wizards and witches in the room. They had all tried to enhance their magical skills in secret, it seemed.

“Oooh, did you also try to make a wand out of a little twig?” Zacharias Smith asked, obviously recalling a childhood memory himself.

“Sweet Salazar, Smith,” Malfoy groaned, “Did no one tell you wand cores are pretty integral in the whole it being an actual wand thing?” 

“Malfoy!” Henry chastised the blonde, making him retreat in his seat and hide his face behind his whiskey tumbler.

Henry gestured for Bletchley to continue his story.

“I’m actually planning to bring my boys to my parents' house to try and build a treehouse with them when they’re old enough. I wouldn’t want them to miss out on some of the best memories from my childhood just because Cho and I decided to live in the city,” he confessed as he took another sip of firewhiskey.

“It’s not really a hobby, but my younger brother is a squib and the environment we grew up in-” a couple of pureblood squad member twitched awkwardly in their seat, as Pucey added to Bletchley’s story, “-just made it really difficult for us as a family, and one of the only places we felt at home was building those treehouses with Miles.” Pucey stared a hole in the carpet not daring to see the reaction of the group.

“I’m glad you felt like that mate,” Bletchley answered. “You and James are welcome to join us for an afternoon once Ollie and Max are old enough, I guess they could use help from a couple of experienced treehouse builders.” 

“I appreciate that mate, I bet James would, too,” Pucey said.

“I guess I’ll go now,” Davies said, putting his whiskey glass down on the coffee table.“I used to read a lot when I was younger.” 

“Not really surprising, mate,” George pitched in. “You were sorted into Ravenclaw after all.” 

“George, shut it,” Ginny chastised her brother, receiving a grateful glance from Davies. 

“As I was trying to say, my parents didn’t know how to get more magical books that were suitable for my age, so I read a lot of muggle literature,” Davies continued.

That certainly was a surprise for the group. “What was one of your favourite muggle books?” Haley asked.

“I loved fairy tales as a young kid, just because of the world they let you travel to. And of course, the difference of how the muggles represent magic in those stories.” He spotted only recognition in the eyes of the two muggle-born witches. “Later on, I was more into fantasy and action stories, as any 9-year-old boy would be.” He laughed.

“I guess I’ll go next,” Haley stated, setting her bottle of butterbeer on the coffee table in front of her and straightening her back, “I lived a pretty normal muggle life up to my 11th birthday. My accidental magic wasn’t that majorly present, so my parents didn’t really see it as too odd. But I’ve always been athletic, my parents put me on gymnastics and funnily enough, it really helped with my quidditch skills later on when I started playing.” 

“What’s gymnastics?” Smith asked.

“Hard to explain, Zach, I guess it’s easier to say it got me very flexible and strong,” Haley briefly explained. That resulted in a couple of questionable looks among the men.

“I used to sneak into the broom shed and fly on my older brothers' brooms when they weren’t looking,” Ginny confessed, trying to turn the attention from Haley onto her. It worked as it resulted in an astonished look on George’s face. “They didn’t let me play quidditch with them because I was too young and I was a girl.” 

“That was why my broom was always in another place than where I had put it the day before,” George said.

Hermione did wonder which of her childhood memories she’d wanted to share with them. All her previously pure and happy memories of her childhood now had the tinge of sadness of the loss of her parents hanging over them like gloomy clouds.

“My dad was really into sports,” Hermione started, “and when it became clear he would only have a daughter, he put all his sporting enthusiasm on me.” She laughed at the memory of her dad’s enthusiasm. He’d have loved for her to be just as sporty as he had been in his youth, Hermione, however, would rather have a book over a ball, or any sport for that matter. “I think I’ve tried out for all the big muggle sports. And the best thing was my mum would pick me up early from training when she knew I was truly dreading it. She’d bring me to the library, and I would be able to quietly read a book for the rest of the training time and my dad would be none the wiser. Dad would love to see where I work now,” she finished with a sad smile.

She knew mentioning something as heavily linked with the war as the loss of her parents was not what Henry wanted for the team building, but she couldn’t help herself and the story in her mind was truly a happy memory for her, save the tinge of sadness. Hermione looked around the room and saw the usual mix of empathy and confusion. She had somehow managed to keep the tragedy of what her family went through during the war out of the media. And now she was in a group of people that partly knew the truth and partly only knew the rumours. Awkward.

“Uhm okay, let me think, Jon, Jamie and I have lots of stories from our time playing together,” Henry tried to switch the momentum of the conversation away from the war. “This one time we played Georgia, and Jamie got lost in Tbilisi because he couldn’t remember his way back to the hotel after a couple of drinks in the city and couldn’t read the signs. We found him just casually boozing away in a pub a couple of hours later. Don’t you have a stake it that pub now, Jamie?”

“The bar owner was nice to me that night and he owled me a couple of years later for a possibility to invest into his establishment, it seemed like a good deal so I couldn’t pass it up.” Jamie shrugged.

As the night continued the group split off into smaller groups that soon were a mix of the Hogwarts houses. The coaching staff's plan seemed to have worked. Hermione felt the alcohol breaking down her walls. She thought this was the perfect time to try and crack the puzzle that was Draco Malfoy.

The Bath seeker was sitting in an armchair by himself just surveying the room. Hermione thought she strutted over with determination but with the amount of alcohol in her bloodstream it probably looked quite clumsy.

“Malfoy,” she said as she crashed down on the armchair next to his.

Malfoy slowly turned his head to look at her, “Granger, enjoying the free booze?” 

“Oh shut it, I’m tiny, my bar is so much lower than all these muscly people.” 

“I’ve seen your exes, Granger, your bar is low. I can agree to that,” Malfoy sneered, bringing his tumbler to his mouth and taking another sip of firewhiskey.

Hermione groaned, “I don’t understand you,”

“What?”

“You get my head all messed up with how you behave towards all different kinds of players. Like Haley truly likes you and I think George might kill you in your sleep.” Hermione rambled, hiding behind her glass in embarrassment when the words registered in her mind.

“I like Haley, she’s a nice girl and I wouldn’t want her to get fucked over by Skeeter like we all have been,” Malfoy confessed. “And Weasley, well being around him for more than two minutes works on my nerves. And I know when I rile him up or piss him off, he’ll get out and I wouldn’t have to be around him.”

“Seems fair, but that means he’s annoying me now,” Hermione whined a bit. There was certainly a maximum amount of George she could handle and well, with him being around either her room or Ginny and Haley’s, she got more than she had bargained for.

It however still didn’t explain Malfoy’s behaviour towards her. 

“But wait. This still doesn’t clear up why you act towards me like you act towards me.”

Malfoy swallowed audibly. “Not here, Granger.” He looked around the room and some of the other people in the room were tuned into their conversation.

“Okay?” Hermione asked, getting slightly flustered.

“We could go to the courtyard,” Malfoy suggested. “I found a nice quiet place there last Wednesday” He stood and held out his hand to help her out of her chair.

She didn’t want to accept his help, but when she tried to stand her legs were a bit more like jelly than she expected. Malfoy had seemed to sense it and grabbed her elbow to steady her.

“Uhm, thanks,” she said as she quickly pulled her arm out of his grip. Hermione seemed to catch a look of hurt ghosting over his face at her actions, it, however, passed before she could truly recognize it.

The courtyard of the hacienda was beautiful, the red plasterwork and tropical greenery were enhanced by thousands of fairy lights. She wouldn’t mind having a room with a balcony towards the courtyard, she could look at the place for hours.

“Granger, you’re catching flies,” Malfoy remarked, making her suddenly shut her mouth.

“It’s just…” She couldn’t really find the right word for it, “...magical.”

“That’s because it is Granger, we’re still in the magical world, those fairy lights are just a charm,” he explained matter of factly

“Way to ruin a perfectly beautiful place, Malfoy,” Hermione said, adding: “Like you always do,” under her breath.

“I’m not in the mood for a fight, Granger.” Malfoy sighed, “I thought you wanted an explanation.”

“I do want an explanation, I just can’t let you get away with being a prick. So please, give me that explanation so you can head in again and I can enjoy this courtyard in peace,” Hermione said as she tried to confidently walk over to a bench. Once again, being inebriated, she tripped over a small pebble, resulting in Malfoy grabbing her elbow and once again saving her from going arse over tit.

“Thanks,” she said reluctantly, as he guided her down safely on the bench.

“Can’t have my personal Mediwitch be injured, now, can I?” He smirked down at her before sitting on the other side of the bench. A bit too close for Hermione’s liking. She felt her thigh would touch him if she didn’t desperately try to clench them together.

“So what couldn’t you explain, where George could overhear it?” Hermione asked softly, getting more anxious about the upcoming conversation by the minute.

Malfoy brought his hand to his face and rubbed his face. “I don’t give a fuck about blood status anymore okay?’ He said aggressively.

“I don’t understand, you haven’t changed the way you talk to George,” Hermione stated.

“That I don’t care they’re so-called ‘ _ blood traitors _ ’ doesn’t mean I suddenly like the guy,” Malfoy simply explained.

“Fair point. That does explain a lot.” Hermione took some time to run it over in her mind and look at the lights bouncing around in the tree in the middle of the courtyard. 

“But that explanation doesn't work for me,” she added after a minute.

Malfoy sighed audibly. “You’re getting old, Granger,” he grinned. “That took you longer than back in school.” 

“Firewhiskey clouds the mind,” Hermione mumbled.

“The mind of the ‘ _ brightest witch of our age _ ’ gets beaten by a little firewhiskey?” Malfoy mocked playfully.

“Hey, I think it was almost half a bottle,” Hermione slapped his arm. “And don’t change the subject, why am I not on the same level as the Weasleys in your mind?”

Malfoy shifted in his seat, seemingly made uncomfortable by the question. “I think,” He raised his hands to rub his forehead. “I think I see two different you’s. The image of the ‘muggle-born’ that always bested me in Hogwarts and the brilliant witch who changes entire disciplines all on her own just by sheer willpower.” 

Hermione hadn’t expected to receive such a compliment from her former school bully.

“And I think that confuses me.”

“And you don’t want the rest of the squad to know, you think I’m brilliant?” Hermione smirked up at him.

“Weasley already sees more than enough from me physically, I don’t need him seeing my inner workings as well,” Malfoy said.

Before Hermione could answer, she couldn’t hold in the yawn that crept up on her. “I’m exhausted, I should head to bed.”

As soon as she collapsed on her bed she fell asleep, dreaming of fairy lights, courtyards and confessions.

When she woke early and very hungover the following morning, she didn’t know which memory was real, which had been a dream and what had been enhanced or misinterpreted by her firewhiskey induced mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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